Return to Normal
by TheWritingMuggle
Summary: After defeating Voldemort, what Harry wants most is to live a normal life. Will he get what he wants? Canon pairs. PostDH, PreEpilogue.
1. Chapter 1: Memories

Author's Note: For purposes of my fic, the battle took place over the night of May 14-15. It's my first one, so please be kind. Read and review, please. Oh, and I'm looking for a beta... if you're interested, just let me know.

And I don't own any of it. If you think I do, you're mad.

_May 15, 1998 - one day after the Battle of Hogwarts_

Harry Potter was slowly stirred to wakefulness in his four-poster. He didn't want to wake up; he had missed his comfortable bed in Gryffindor Tower. A borrowed tent in the middle of nowhere and a cramped cottage could not compare to the creature comforts Hogwarts could offer. Even right after the fiercest battle wizardkind had ever seen.

Of course, Harry could be excused if he wanted nothing more than to sleep. The defeat of Voldemort had only marked the beginning of yet another long day. There had been everyone wishing him congratulations, a task that soon became an unwelcome chore. Then there had been the casualties of the battle. The dead – Remus, Tonks, Colin – had all been carefully laid on stretchers, covered with white cloths, and placed in a classroom near the Entrance Hall. Flitwick had placed a strong Freezing Charm on the room so the dead would be kept in a pristine state. The wounded were under the care of Madam Pomfrey, except for some serious cases that had been taken to St. Mungo's. Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Cho Chang had all been sent there, although, Harry was gratified to know, none had life-threatening injuries.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters had, of course, not been accorded the same treatment. The two dozen or so of their number who had died had all been placed on crude funeral pyres and cremated the very morning of the battle. It seemed harsh, but no one was feeling particularly solicitous towards them – not when there were more than twice their number lying dead inside the castle. Harry himself had lit Voldemort's pyre; Hermione had lit Bellatrix Lestrange's; and Ron lit Rookwood's. Other members of the Order and the DA did the same for the rest of the dead dark wizards.

"Harry, wake up. Professor McGonagall wants to see you." Harry heard a voice through the fog of his drowsiness. He began fumbling for his glasses, but a pair of hands, softer than his, placed those in his hands. They were familiar. _Ginny_, he realized. He put his glasses on. She had a wry grin on. Her eyebrows pointed toward the other occupied bed in the dormitory. Hermione was trying to wake a snoring Ron.

Both Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione had sneaked off after dinner, trying to find somewhere private to talk. So, it seemed, had every other student not under the care of Madam Pomfrey. The adults, for their part, had regarded this with something between amusement and understanding. Harry and Ginny had spent what seemed like an eternity talking. About the past year, the battle... and the losses. Fred. Lupin. Tonks. It didn't make up for what the year they'd lost, but Harry was grateful for it nonetheless. For the first time in... years, it seemed like, Harry felt like he had a future to look forward to. And he fully intended for the redhead now waking him up to be a part of it.

Meanwhile, Hermione had had no success waking Ron up. He was still fast asleep. She sighed. She cast a quick Silencing Charm on the door, and a _Sonorus_ on herself. On cue, Harry and Ginny stuffed fingers into their ears. "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!!!!" the magically magnified voice echoed in the dorm. Ron quickly woke up, and promptly fell out of his bed and ended up at Hermione's feet. Harry and Ginny could not help themselves, and laughed.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. Can't you let people sleep? I was in the middle of a good dream..."

"Did it involve you, Hermione, and snogging?" Ginny asked.

Ron was outraged. "I didn't ask what you two were doing last night!"

"Well, at least we didn't come back like _you_ did last night!" Ginny replied. Harry and Ginny had made it back to Gryffindor Tower before Ron and Hermione last night. Bill had been in the common room, half-asleep in front of the fireplace. When he saw the two come through the portrait hole, hands entwined, he gave the couple a knowing smile. Ron and Hermione had followed a few moments later, and the three could not help but notice that the new arrivals' hair was even more out-of-control than usual. Bill's smile then became a smirk.

Ron and Hermione both turned pink at the mention of that incident. Harry coughed loudly, as if telling the others to change the topic. "Right. So, why _did _you two wake us up anyway?"

"McGonagall wouldn't say. All she said was it's about what you talked about yesterday."

_Oh, that,_ Harry thought. McGonagall had taken him, Ron, and Hermione aside during dinner yesterday. She had said that both her and Kingsley - and for that matter, the whole wizarding world - would want to hear exactly what the three had been up to for the past year. (And, Harry realized, more than that. The events surrounding Dumbledore's death had never been clearly explained, either.)

It was not something any one of the trio was looking forward to. The memories were nothing short of excruciating, and having to revisit them would reopen wounds that were only beginning to heal. But they all knew if they didn't say _something_, then people like Rita Skeeter would fill in the void. Already, Ginny and Neville had told them about some of the rumors spread in the past year about what they were up to. They were enough to make a story on crumple-horned snorkacks in _The Quibbler_ look downright believable.

In the end, they had agreed to pool together the most important memories and place them in a Pensieve. Otherwise, they weren't sure if even McGonagall or Kingsley would believe them. How would they, for example, react to hearing that the Deathly Hallows were not just objects from an old children's story book, but completely real? That they had broken into what everyone in the wizarding world called the most secure place on earth? They all knew, however, that while this may have been the best way to show others what had happened, it would also be the most painful. Living through the quest once had been bad enough; re-living it - even only the important parts - would not be any easier.

Ron's stomach took this brief moment of silence as a good chance to voice its displeasure at not being filled since the previous evening. It grumbled quite loudly. It broke the silent reverie that had permeated the room, and Hermione barely stifled a laugh. She proceeded to drag a still-drowsy Ron out of the dormitory.

For his part, Harry had been wrestling with another important question. _What do I tell Ginny_? Last night, far above the rest of the castle in the Astronomy Tower, Ginny and Harry had made a promise to each other. No more secrets. Ginny knew that Harry would tell her what had happened in his own time, just as she would tell him how Hogwarts had been under Snape and the Carrows. Harry didn't know if this was the right time or way, but he wasn't sure if he could survive having those memories dredged up over and over again.

"How... how are they holding up?" Harry asked. "They" being the rest of the Weasleys.

Ginny let out a sigh. "It's... tough, really. Everyone's real quiet, but sometimes Mum will just break down and cry whenever something reminds her of... Fred. I don't think it will really hit us until we're... back at the Burrow, really." She sniffed, obviously on the verge of tears. "How did you do it, Harry? I mean, your parents, Sirius... you've lost so much..."

Harry pulled her into a hug "I don't know, Gin. I really don't know. But..." he fell silent, as he felt the tears flow down her cheeks, onto his shoulder. He just held her there for what seemed like an eternity. He had not been there for her for a year, but he was there now. And Harry intended to keep it that way for all of eternity.

She eventually lifted her head off Harry's shoulder. "Did... did Fred suffer?"

He shook his head. "Sirius told me. Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

Ginny was surprised, and it showed clearly. "What? But how-"

"It's... complicated. Listen... me, Ron, and Hermione are going up to McGonagall's office tonight. With Kingsley. We're telling her what... what we've been doing for the past year. Do you want to come with us?"

"I don't understand, Harry. Why-"

"Because you deserve to know. No lies, no secrets, remember? I promised. "

Ginny could do nothing else but nod, eyes still red. The pair soon left for the Great Hall in silence, hands entwined.

Soon after lunch, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves in the Transfiguration classroom. Harry had told McGonagall about what they had planned, and she had agreed. She had also given her approval to let Ginny join them that night. This had surprised Harry, who had been expecting a fight. "Mr. Potter," she had explained, "it is the job of every Head of House to know what their students are up to, even if you do not know that we know. Your request does not come as a great surprise." Harry could not help but blush at this last statement. "If you believe it will help, she is welcome to come."

The magic itself was not terribly difficult, and they had all been able to copy over their memories and place them in the Pensieve on their first try. Just to be on the safe side, they all took out the memory of the morning wake-up call and checked if they were correct. Once Hermione was satisfied they were ready, Harry took our his wand and pointed it at the door. He locked it, cast the _Muffliato_ spell, and, upon further thought, cast a third one neither Hermione nor Ron had heard before.

"What was that one about, mate?" Ron asked.

"Oh, that. _Animagi Revelio_. Forces all animagi in an area to transform either out of or into their animagus form, depending on what the caster wants," Harry explained. "Aberforth told me a certain reporter got herself a room down at the Hog's Head."

"That Skeeter woman? Here?" blurted out Hermione. "The nerve. I would have thought -"

"Well, it's not like the _Prophet_ had much of a choice," Ron said. "Dad told me half of the staff went on the run. Either they were Muggle-born, or married to one. Unfortunately, Rita is neither. So they hired her back."

Hermione sighed. "Oh well. Let's do what we have to do."

Several hours later, they had finished copying their memories - placed into a rather large bottle. They all felt emotionally drained, and were ready to head back to the dorms. No sooner had that thought formed in their heads, however, when they heard a loud bang outside the door and several excited shouts. A second bang soon followed, and Harry heard the muffled voice of Neville on the other side of the door. "Hey, Harry! Look who we found!"

Harry quickly opened the door to find Rita Skeeter crouching in the corridor, held at wandpoint by the Patil twins. Neville had nothing less than a cheeky grin on his face. "We were down the corridor, helping fix up some of the other classrooms. McGonagall told us you were in here, and to keep an eye out if anyone wanted to get in. All of a sudden, we hear this loud bang, and Skeeter is in the middle of the corridor. She tried to jinx Parvati, but I disarmed her," holding up Rita's wand.

Just then, McGonagall and Mr. Weasley came running from the other end of the corridor. "What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall demanded. "Ms. Skeeter, how did you get in here? I believe you were aware that your presence here in Hogwarts was not welcome." The reporter remained mute. "Arthur, was he in the list of visitors Filch gave you this morning?"

"No, Minerva, he was not. So, how did you get here? And what were you doing?"

"Mr. Weasley, I think we can answer for her," Hermione said. "Rita Skeeter is an unregistered animagus. We've known about it for a while now. We knew she was in Hogsmeade, so Harry cast an Animagus-Revealing Charm around the Transfiguration classroom. When that was tripped, the Patils and Neville caught her."

"Indeed?" Minerva said. "An unregistered animagus? I never thought you had it in you, Rita. I never remembered you showing much aptitude in my classes. Barely passed your OWL, if I remember correctly. Still, the Minister of Magic should find that interesting, won't he, Arthur?"

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Mr. Weasley replied. "Neville, you can give me her wand now. I'll take her down to the dungeons."

"The... dungeons?" Rita replied, weakly. "Aren't the Death Eaters locked up there?"

"And how would you know that, Ms. Skeeter?" McGonagall said. "However, you are correct. The captured have been confined under strict guard in the dungeons. But why give them a chance at publicity through you? I'm sure the remaining Aurors can find you some alternate confinement. Far away from Death Eaters and your Quick Quotes Quill," she added, her dislike evident with every syllable. With a nod from Mr. Weasley, Rita slowly stood up and was escorted away from the scene.

"Longbottom, excellent spellwork from you. You three can go back to what you were doing," McGonagall said. Neville nodded, and he and the twins went back to where they had come from. "Potter, the Minister will be in the Headmaster's office after dinner this evening. I will expect all of you to be there."

_To be continued... review please!_


	2. Chapter 2: Canary Cream

Thanks for those who reviewed and put me in their story alert list. Your comments are what writers live for, since we don't get paid or anything.

And I'm still looking for a beta. Will anyone help me? Please? Pretty please?

If you recognize it, I don't own it. I'm just borrowing them, okay?

_Early evening, May 15, 1998  
_  
It was dinner time at Hogwarts. People - students, family, teachers - were heading from the various dormitories towards the Great Hall to eat, and for most of them it would be a welcome respite from the hard work of cleaning up the castle. The immediate rubble of the battle had been removed by now. The more minor bits of damage - broken windows and the like - had also been fixed. The rest of the repairs, though, would have to be left at a later time. Fixing such a large structure kept up by magic was not something to be left to amateurs.

The mood in the Great Hall was subdued, to say the least. Everyone's mind was on what would happen the following morning: the memorial service for all those who had died. McGonagall had asked if Harry was up to saying something. He had answered, truthfully, that he wasn't. His brain told him_, Voldemort is gone, you've got your whole future ahead of you_. However, his heart kept reminding him about the cost: _Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Dobby, and so many others dead. Even more people than that, hurt. And who knows how many more lost family_. With such a battle going on within him, he was sure anything he said would turn out to be rubbish.

That was far from the only thing on his mind. His eyes wandered from Ron and Hermione, who were sitting across the table, to Ginny, sitting beside him, all the way to McGonagall and Kingsley who were both at the staff table. Reliving the past year through a Pensieve, would not be easy. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, he wondered if asking Ginny to come tonight was a mistake. He turned towards Ginny, who was sitting beside him. He had asked her again before dinner if she was sure she wanted to join him. Her brown eyes had locked with his green ones. Just as she had earlier that day, she nodded.

For her part, Ginny was terribly anxious about what would happen later tonight. She knew how much Harry had thought about her the past year; she and Hermione had talked about it this morning, before they had woken Harry and Ron up. Hermione told Ginny about the endless nights when Harry, thinking Hermione was asleep, had watched the Marauder's Map by wandlight. She felt gratified that Harry trusted her with what had to be the darkest secrets of his life; it spoke to the amount of trust each had in the other.

At the same time, however, Ginny could not deny that she was afraid of what those secrets were. She had never admitted it to anyone, but she still had nightmares about her whole first year. Sometimes, she dreamed that that accursed diary had completely taken over her, that Voldemort had risen again two years earlier than he actually had, that... both she and Harry had died there, alone, in the Chamber of Secrets. If that was the kind of dark magic Harry had faced then, how much worse could it have been now? She only had to glance at Harry's neck, where some scars had escaped Madam Pomfrey's attention - from what, Merlin only knew.

Dinner passed quietly, and soon the four were facing the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. All four of them exchanged meaningful glances; they were all as ready as they would ever be. Harry turned to face the gargoyle. "Canary cream," he said, and the entrance to the office opened. On the way up, Harry was amused at the thought that such a strict teacher like McGonagall would use a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product as her password. Then again, it wasn't a bad tribute to either Fred or Dumbledore - and neither would mind at all, he thought.

The group reached the top of the moving stairway and heard McGonagall talking with Kingsley Shacklebolt through the half-open door. "I assure you, Minerva," he said, "the remaining Death Eaters will be removed from Hogwarts tonight. The Ministry has found enough trustworthy personnel to guard them in London - and with their wands here, in any case, there is not much they can do."

"That is good to hear. I- ah, yes, I see that they've arrived," McGonagall said, seeing that Harry and the others. "Enter."

They entered the office. The Pensieve was still where Harry had left it the day before, but beside it there was a small bottle that, he supposed, contained Snape's memories. Harry noticed there was a small box beside it. It was full of wands. The last time he had seen that many wands in one place was Ollivander's. Kingsley followed Harry's eyes and answered the unspoken question. "Death Eaters," he said. "We decided it was best to keep their wands as far away from them as possible. Oh, and speaking of which," Kingsley pulled a small package from a pocket in his robes. "The Malfoys were kind enough to send this over. I'm not sure who the owners of these are."

Kingsley opened the package, which contained two wands - one of vinewood, another of willow. Ron and Hermione's eyes grew bigger. "Our wands!" Ron said. They took their respective wands, and it was clear to Harry that they were feeling the same things he had when his holly wand had been repaired. "How uncharacteristically... generous of the Malfoys," McGonagall wryly remarked.

"People will do things they normally wouldn't if they want to avoid Azkaban," Kingsley said. "They're currently under house arrest at Malfoy Manor. Ron, Hermione, whose wands have you been using?"

"Oh," Hermione said. "Ron's been using Peter Pettigrew's. I've been using-" Hermione took a breath, "Bellatrix Lestrange's." She took the wands of the two dead Death Eaters and placed them with the rest of the wands on McGonagall's desk. Everyone noticed the look of revulsion on Hermione's face as she did so.

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" McGonagall asked. "But-" she turned to face Harry. "I suppose this will all make sense when we've viewed the memories, am I correct?" Harry nodded. "By the way," he added, "I think this one belongs to Draco." He handed over the hawthorn wand to the Minister. "I don't need it anymore. I suppose you can send it back, I guess."

"We'll see, Harry," Kingsley replied. "You may begin when you are ready."

Harry just nodded. He began with the prophecy, Dumbledore's private lessons in his sixth year, which was really just a segue to his explanation of Horcruxes. Ginny, Kingsley, and McGonagall were all shocked when he had explained just what they were, and that Voldemort had made so many of them. He remembered his initial reaction when he had realized exactly what Horcruxes were; he saw the same reaction on three faces. Ginny had squeezed Harry's hand hard when she realized that the diary that had given her so much grief had held a part of Voldemort's soul. _Merlin's beard_, Ginny thought, _that... thing was worse than I thought_.

Harry had still been talking while Ginny had been lost in her own thoughts. He had just finished talking about when he and Dumbledore and left to retrieve the locket Horcrux, and then pulled out the bottle containing the trio's memories from his robes. "That's where our... journey, started. I think." He opened the bottle and poured the contents into the Pensieve. Harry noticed that while all the memories he had dealt with before had a silvery white color, these had a closer somewhat closer to gray. _Of course they would_, Harry thought. _With what these contain... I'm not surprised they're black._ As if on cue, six heads plunged into the Pensieve.

It was several hours later when they all emerged from the Pensieve. Kingsley was the most composed of the group, but even he had a look somewhere between shock and amazement. McGonagall, who Harry thought had always managed to comport herself with dignity, looked badly shaken. Ron and Hermione were both leaning on the other, eyes read from tears. Harry and Ginny were in a similar state. Even the portraits of former headmasters were holding back tears. It took a while before the silence was broken.

"The Elder Wand," McGonagall said. "It's still-"

"It's still here, Professor," Harry said, pulling it out from his robes.

"Filius and I," McGonagall said, "have not been able to fix Dumbledore's tomb yet. He believes that in between the original protective spells and the damage Voldemort inflicted, it would require extraordinary magic to repair. Would you be willing to use the Elder Wand to do so?"

"Of course, Professor," Harry said.

"Harry," Kingsley said, "the whole wizarding world owes you and your friends a debt that can never be fully repaid. You have all faced trials that would have daunted wizards far older than yourselves. It would not be far fetched to say," he went on, "that you and your generation of wizards and witches may well be the greatest generation the wizarding world has ever produced. " Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all turned pink in reaction. No one was quite sure how to respond to such lofty praise.

"Minister," Harry said, but Kingsley cut him off. "It's just Kingsley, Harry." Harry nodded. "We can't let the whole story out, can we? The last thing we need is all this knowledge about Horcruxes out in public. It can't be told, ever, not all of it."

"I agree," Kingsley said. "Some things are best kept secret. We can give the rest of the world a... summary. But the complete story will never leave this room. Can we all agree on that?" There were five nods in reply.

"Professor," Hermione asked, "what about our seventh year?"

"I have spoken," McGonagall said, "to the school governors. I am pleased to say that we have agreed that anyone who was not able to attend this past year will be more than welcome to return when the new term starts in September. And yes, we will open in September," answering the unasked question. "If there is one thing I will do as Headmistress, that will be it."

"I will tell the _Daily Prophet_ that, Minerva, if you will allow me. Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

"Well," Hermione said meekly, "there is one more thing." She explained what she had done to her parents. "I don't know where they are now, and, well..."

"That won't be much of a problem," Kingsley said reassuringly. "The Australian and American Ministers of Magic will attend the memorial tomorrow. I'm sure he will be more than happy to help."

Ron was surprised. "The what?" he asked. "What are they doing here?", with puzzlement clear in his voice.

"Both of them," the Acting Minister said, "were acquaintances of Moody. Excellent Aurors in their day, too. Both of them knew that our Ministry was lying when they denied Voldemort had returned. At the same time, they couldn't say so openly. So they gave us what help they could discreetly. When the Ministry fell, the Order started evacuating as many Muggle-borns and anyone else in danger as we could to America and Australia. Madame Maxime helped, too; she hid some Hogwarts students at Beaubaxtons. Now that the whole world knows what's really going on, they're giving us all the help we need. Publicly."

Hermione relaxed visibly. So did Ron. "It is late," McGonagall said. Harry looked at his watch - it was just before midnight. "Go back to your dormitories. You need your rest. I dare say we all will. We can deal with Dumbledore's tomb tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Professor. Oh, one more thing. Is the Room of Requirement still working?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes," she answered. "Horace was able to control the Fiendfyre that foolish Crabbe unleashed. However, all the contents of the Room of Hidden Things have been reduced to ashes. Beyond that, however, the Room seems to have survived intact."

Harry nodded in thanks, and the four left the office. They made their way back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Ron and Hermione proceeded to climb up to the dormitory, while Harry and Ginny stayed behind in the common room.

"Ginny, can you... can you get the DA together? After we put the wand back, I mean?"

"Yes, but - why, Harry?"

"You all deserve to know too, Gin. Not the whole story, but most of it. Besides, you're in charge now, right?"

There was the faintest trace of a smile on Ginny. She pulled out the fake galleon from her robes, and sent out the word. The pair ended up in one of the chairs beside a window. They looked out into the grounds, into the Forbidden Forest, contemplating what they had just seen. Eventually, fatigue claimed both of them, and they both lied down on a couch in the common room, too tired to climb up to the dormitories.

The following morning, Mrs. Weasley found them still asleep in the common room. She had to do a double-take at the sight, but soon managed a smile - the first one that had graced her features since the battle. She, like all mothers, knew more than she let on. She knew something like this would happen eventually, and guessed that her youngest son would be in a similar position as well. It was then that she knew that things would be alright in the end. Grief-stricken as she was right now, she knew that life would go on. They would never forget the dead, but neither would they forget what they had died for.

She conjured a blanket and placed it over the sleeping couple. They were still in the most blissful sleep either one had experienced in their entire lives.

-------

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3: Memorial Wall

**Author's Note**: Yay! I have a beta now! Thanks to my new beta, Dragyn over at SIYE. Without him, this wouldn't be any good. Thanks to all who sent in reviews and added me to their story alerts. Like I said, it's what we writers get as pay.

_May 16, 1998_

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, McGonagall, and Kingsley were all beside Dumbledore's tomb. They could see the large crack in the white marble that marked where Voldemort had broken it open. There was a faint glow from the stone that was, Harry supposed, from the effects of all the spells that had been placed on it. McGonagall nodded to Harry. He pulled out the Elder Wand and pointed it at the desecrated grave.

"_Finite_," he muttered.

The glow vanished. Harry approached the tomb and saw Dumbledore lying there as if he was simply asleep. He tucked the wand back into the headmaster's hands, and said, "Thanks, Professor."

Harry walked down from the tomb and re-joined the others a few meters away. McGonagall and Kingsley proceeded to cast protective wards on the tomb, in the hope that it would never be disturbed again. As they were walking up back to the castle, Harry took a backward glance. He was sure he saw a red phoenix flying off into the sky. He blinked his eyes, but it was gone.

_Was it Fawkes?_ Harry wondered. Could the bird have accepted commands from its dead master? The obvious answer was _no, that's impossible, come off it, Harry_. However, seven years in the Wizarding World had taught Harry that when magic was involved, almost anything was possible.

This line of thinking kept his brain busy until they reached the familiar tapestry of trolls trying, but abysmally failing, to do ballet. He did not have to think about what he wanted; the familiar wooden door was already there. He opened it, to be greeted by the sight of a giant poster of Dolores Umbridge, beaten to within an inch of her life. All four of them at the entrance did a double-take.

"We thought you'd like it," the dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood said. It was, Harry saw, an enlarged page from the _Daily Prophet_. Someone handed a normal-sized copy to Harry, turned to the right page. He began reading.

_**DISGRACED MINISTRY OFFICIAL MOBBED TRYING TO FLEE COUNTRY**_

_Former Senior Under-Secretary to the Minister of Magic Dolores Umbridge was caught trying to flee the country yesterday, the Daily Prophet has learned. The disgraced Ministry official, a key figure in the implementation of many failed policies under three successive Ministers, was attempting to secure a Portkey at the London International Porkey Terminal to France when she was recognized by a group of Muggle-born refugees, returning after the fall of Lord Voldemort._

_Reg Cattermole, one of those refugees, described what happened to our reporter:_

_"There we were," he said, "just picking ourselves up off the ground, when we saw that toad Umbridge trying to get out. She didn't look quite like herself, of course, but she didn't fool any of us. None of us had wands, otherwise we'd have hexed her to bits, but we all got our chance to administer some justice anyways."_

_The administration of justice was, according to other witnesses, a "fine display of Muggle dueling". The refugees reportedly attacked Umbridge, kicking and punching her multiple times. Other refugees in the facility joined in when they realized what was going on. It was well over ten minutes before Hit Wizards from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were able to restore order and escort Umbridge to a secure ward of St. Mungo's, where her injuries are currently being treated._

_"Oh, she'll have a lot to answer for," an anonymous Ministry official said. "The whole Muggle-Born Registration Commission was disgraceful, and we have information she committed other crimes before then as well. I think we'll be seeing her in Azkaban real soon."_

"That's more than that git deserved," Ron said. "Pity someone couldn't have hit her with a Bat-Bogey Hex or something. I'd love to see _that_ up there," he went on, pointing at the giant picture.

"Look, Harry," Hermione said, pointing to another story. "Rita's made the news!"

_**DAILY PROPHET SACKS REPORTER FOR ETHICAL VIOLATIONS**_

_The Daily Prophet sacked its star reporter Rita Skeeter yesterday. According to editor-in-chief Philip Gutenberg, she was removed from her job by the newspaper following a report that she is currently under Ministry investigation as an unregistered Animagus. Skeeter, whose animal form is reportedly a beetle, was caught on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, despite explicit orders from Acting Headmistress Minerva McGonagall forbidding any unauthorised presence inside the heavily damaged school._

_Being an illegal Animagus is punishable by ten years in Azkaban, but Rita is unlikely to spend that long in jail, a Ministry official revealed._

_"Let's face it," he said, "there are only so many cells in Azkaban and we've got more important people to worry about." The Daily Prophet has begun an investigation into the accuracy of all stories Ms. Skeeter has written for the newspaper._

"Well, that's not a bad way to start the day, is it?" Ginny said. Harry nodded.

"Okay, Harry," the voice of Seamus Finnegan said a little loudly. "What were the three of you up to the last year? Ginny told us you'd tell us today."

Harry did a mental head count of everyone in the room. Subtracting those he knew had not been present, and those still in St. Mungo's, he was gratified to note that no other DA members had been killed.

"On one condition," he warned. "Nothing Ron, Hermione, or I say leaves this room. What I'm about to tell you involves some of the darkest magic that can be imagined. We can't even tell you everything, just the important parts. If word got out, well... look what happened with Voldemort and how troublesome it was to get rid of him. The last thing the world needs is would-be Voldemorts. Will you all each give me your word?"

Once there was agreement from everyone else in the room, Harry began explaining their year-long trip, with Ron and Hermione filling in occasionally. When he brought up the topic of Horcruxes, everyone was visibly shocked. The thought was as repellent to the members of the DA as it had been to McGonagall and Kingsley. Even Luna's voice lost its usual dreamlike quality.

Ginny, however, noticed that they had left out some details. They had not mentioned Ron bailing out on Harry and Hermione because of the locket Horcrux. Harry had also neglected to include how he kept seeing what Voldemort was seeing. When Neville had asked how they got the information they acted on, Harry had given him a we-can't-tell-you look.

Inevitably, the talk turned turned to the battle in the rest of the castle. It was difficult, but Harry managed to get through it. Some more details were left out, but no one even bothered to pry too deeply into those. Eventually, the DA members started talking about the battle itself which Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't seen much of, since they were busy fighting off Malfoy and his goons Crabbe and Goyle in the Room of Requirement for a great deal of the time

"There weren't actually that many really dangerous Death Eaters around," Seamus said. "Most of 'em seemed to be just random folks who got Imperiused. I think I stunned someone who I remember Madam Rosmerta throwing out of the Three Broomsticks for having a little too much mead."

Harry nodded, mentioning his encounter with Stan Shunpike. (Harry, however, failed to mention exactly when this had taken place, and the DA didn't ask.)

Eventually the topic went to Zacharias Smith. Susan Bones, the only Hufflepuff in the meeting - all the other Hufflepuffs in the DA were still recovering in St. Mungo's - visibly bristled at the name.

"That useless, stinking, git!" she yelled.

"Oh, don't worry about it," George Weasley said. "We've got a special Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product lined up for him. Chicken Cake."

"Does that do what I think it does?" Neville asked.

"Yep," George went on. "It works like the Canary Cream, except it turns the git who eats it into a chicken... for a few hours. I'd like to see that, wouldn't you?" This was met with squeals of laughter. Harry was glad to see that even grief could not completely stop the sense of humor of George Weasley. _Fred_, he thought, _would have it no other way_.

"So, I guess this is it for the DA, then?" Neville said as the chatter died down.

"I guess so," Harry replied. "But we won, didn't we? We did what we set out to do - and more. Without you all, I couldn't have done what I had to. Thanks," Harry said, although deep in his heart he knew words would never be enough.

"Times like these," said Katie Bell, "call for a toast. Don't you think so, everyone?"

"Well, there is the tiny little problem that the room can't produce food," someone replied.

"Who said anything about the room taking care of that?" Angelina said. "We brought our own."

Bottles of butterbeer were passed around.

"So, who do we dedicate it to?" Ron asked. Harry thought for a moment, but it was Ginny who came up with an answer.

"To the woman whose existence made ours possible, even necessary." She paused for effect. "Dolores Umbridge."

The room exploded in laughter just as the giant Umbridge in the picture was hit with an umbrella by a bystander.

That afternoon, the memorial service took place outdoors beside the lake. It was very much like Dumbledore's funeral, Harry thought. There were many familiar faces present, but just as many were missing. To his left, in the front row, were Ginny, Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, and Andromeda Tonks, holding a blue-haired Teddy Lupin in her lap.

Harry wondered at the mix of emotions going through her right now. She had lost her husband, daughter, and son-in-law in short order. How could she survive such grief? It was hard enough to lose one person you loved, but three at once? It should have been too much for anyone, but there she was, managing to comport herself with an unexpected level of dignity.

There was a buzz in the air from the conversations people were having with each other, but it ceased when several figures left the castle towards the gathered assembly. They drew closer and Harry now saw that the figures were made up Professor McGonagall, the other Heads of House, Kinsgley, and the familiar tufty-haired wizard who had been at Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry idly wondered if there were so few wizards that officiated ceremonies like these that he had seen the same one three times in just under a year.

Harry paid little attention to the tufty-haired wizard. Instead, he was going over his memories of the people being remembered. It wasn't until Kingsley stood up to speak that Harry started paying attention.

He knew that it would be Kingsley's speech that would single out the trio for their efforts. _At least_, Harry thought, _Kingsley won't use us to promote himself, like Fudge or Scrimgeour would have_. Harry, however, wanted the others to get their part of the credit too. Without Ron, Hermione, and so many others, Harry knew, he could never have succeeded. They deserved the honors as much as he did - if anything, perhaps, even more.

He was gratified to hear Kingsley's speech. It was a refined version of what he had said the previous night in the headmaster's office. He recognized not just Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but all their other contemporaries who had done their part. He ended his speech with a line that Harry thought Dumbledore would have been proud of:

"After what you have all accomplished, I see a bright future for the Wizarding World. Your sacrifices shall never be forgotten."

It was met with loud applause that lasted for almost a minute. There was nary a dry eye to be found among the hundreds of people who had been listening. Then Professor McGonagall spoke.

"We are ready," she said, "to inaugurate a memorial to all those who died. It is located in the Entrance Hall, but we cannot accommodate everyone in attendance inside. May I ask that only those who were present at the battle and their families enter to see the unveiling personally.

"Everyone else," she went on," will be able to view the proceedings from here." A cacophony of noises was generated as people gradually made their way inside the castle.

Inside, there was a large black curtain covering part of the Entrance Hall beside the entrance to the Great Hall. Harry supposed the memorial was behind it and wondered what it would be. He turned to Ginny, who was beside him.

"Do you know what it'll be, Harry?" she asked, but Harry shook his head. They both looked over to Mrs. Weasley, who was leaning on Mr. Weasley, her face still wet from the tears she had been shedding all day.

Professor McGonagall and Kingsley made their way over beside the curtain. A pair of small bangs from each of their wands brought the crowd to order. The two lifted their wands and the curtain fell away revealing what was behind it. Where there used to be a simple wall of stone, there was now a section of the finest white granite. Seven feet off the floor, carved into the stone, was the text:

_In memory of those who gave their lives so that others may live in peace.  
We shall never forget._

Below the words, elegantly carved into the stone were fifty-five stars. Below the stars, on a small shelf, there was a small leather-bound book. The book named all those who had died that fateful night, each represented by one star in the smooth stone. On each side of the shelf, there was a simple glass mirror. "These mirrors," Professor McGonagall said, "are enchanted so that one who gazes through them shall see our best memories of those who died." Slowly, from both outside and inside the Entrance Hall, a wave of applause moved over the crowd. It was a fitting memorial, Harry thought, and the crowd agreed. It went on for what seemed like an eternity. Any eyes that had dried from the service were crying once again. Even Harry and Ginny, neither of whom were prone to shedding many tears, were overcome with emotion.

"What do you see in the mirror?" Harry asked.

"Tonks," she answered, "in Grimmauld Place, changing her nose to all sorts of things. What about you?"

"Fred," he replied, "when they lit off all those fireworks after Umbridge took over."

It was well over half an hour before the crowd thinned. Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys - with the exceptions Mr. Weasley and Bill - were sitting in a table in the Great Hall, together with Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin. Miraculously, Teddy had managed to stay quiet the whole afternoon, and was now sucking on his thumb held in Harry's arms.

"I think," Andromeda said, "Remus and Dora couldn't have chosen a better godfather." Harry turned red at the thought. He knew nothing about raising children; he was barely of age, after all. As if she had read Harry's mind, she continued. "It's not about what you can or can't do. It's about how you love someone. I'm sure you will do well."

A tired-looking witch with a clipboard approached them. "Mrs. Tonks?" she asked. Seeing the nod, the witch handed the clipboard and a quill over. "You will need to sign these."

Andromeda signed the pieces of parchment, the sadness evident in her eyes. "I will see you all for the funeral, then?" Everyone nodded. "I will send you an owl with the arrangements. Thank you very much for the help, Molly."

After the two women hugged, Harry handed over Teddy back to his grandmother.

"Say goodbye to your godfather, Teddy," she said, and the baby opened and closed his hands in, what Harry supposed was a goodbye wave. Harry waved back, and Andromeda followed the witch with the clipboard out of the Great Hall.

"As soon as Arthur and Bill have made sure the Burrow is safe to return to, we'll be taking a Portkey back," Mrs. Weasley announced. "It shouldn't take long - oh!"

Just then, the familiar silver weasel landed in front of Mrs. Weasley and spoke in Mr. Weasley's voice. "The Burrow is safe."

Once the Patronus vanished into nothingness Mrs. Weasley said, "I guess we'd better head... home, then." Silently, the group left the Great Hall. Several minutes later, they found themselves out on the grounds, waiting for a Portkey to the Burrow.

Several minutes after that, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were back in the garden where their quest had started, just under a year ago.

_To be continued... read and review please. _


	4. Chapter 4: Funerals and Firewhisky

**Author's note: **Thanks go out again to my wonderful beta Dragyn over at SIYE, who had to work really hard for this chapter. He deserves plenty of kudos for this.

_May 23, 1998_  
_The Burrow_

It was not until everyone's feet hit the garden of the Burrow that Harry realized how tired he was. The day's events had been taxing and right after dinner Mrs. Weasley sent everyone to bed, with little protest. They would all need their energy for what was to come next.

First, Harry once again, recollected the past year - this time to the Weasleys. Harry knew they regarded him as family, and he in turn felt obligated to tell them most of what they had done. He did not, however, include the full effects of the locket on Ron. This task took place after dinner most days of the week, and was frequently interrupted by expressions of shock and amazement from everyone. There was also plenty of Mrs. Weasley's bone-crushing hugs, for which Harry had never felt more grateful for.

Then there were the funerals. His status as Saviour of the Wizarding World in the eyes of so many people meant he had been invited to seemingly all of the funerals that took place the week after the memorial ceremony at Hogwarts. However, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny knew that it would do Harry no good to actually go to all of them.

With Mrs. Weasley as a willing accomplice, they had been going through all the invitations and sending out notes declining most of them. For his part, Harry knew all this was going on, but didn't do anything to stop it. Just making it through the funerals he _was_ going to would be hard enough.

The two funerals that stuck out the most in Harry's mind were Fred's the previous day, and Lupin and Tonks's the day prior. Lupin and Dora had been buried next to Ted Tonks; seeing all three in such close proximity had brought home how much Andromeda had lost in the war. At one point, she broke down and it took over half an hour before the funeral could resume.

Harry always thought of Remus and Sirius as the living links to the parents he had never known. He spent many hours in Grimmauld Place listening to Sirius tell stories about his parents. Lupin had done the same, although with far less frequency due to his missions for the Order. That connection was now lost forever. Harry could not help but feel like he had lost his parents all over again.

While most of the mourners had left, Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys had all lingered. So had Kingsley. They had been the ones closest to both Lupin and Tonks, and they all felt obligated to help Andromeda through her grief.

"She, she knew, I think, Dora did," she said, in between sobs. "Remus wasn't here when the call came, but she was. She knew it was a terrible risk to go, but she had to do what she had trained to do." She turned to face Kingsley. "It was Bella, wasn't it?" The acting Minister nodded. "I thought she might," she said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "I'm told she burned me off the family tree herself. I was not surprised to hear she joined the Death Eaters. Thank... thank you, all of you."

She paused again. "Harry, Molly, two seconds, please?"

Harry, Andromeda, and Mrs. Weasley went to a smaller room while the others waited outside. Andromeda retrieved a large envelope from a nearby table with her wand and gave it to Harry.

"Remus wanted you to have this," she said. "I don't know what it is, but he told me to give it to you only if he died and Voldemort was defeated."

"Thanks," Harry said, not knowing what was inside.

"One more thing. You couldn't take Teddy for a few days, could you, Harry?" she asked. "I need some time to... think. If, of course, you would allow it, Molly."

"Of course, of course, that will be no problem, Andromeda. Perhaps you'd like to join us for Sunday lunch, then?"

The slightest hint of a smile crossed Andromeda's features and she replied, "I would be glad to."

With that, Molly and Harry took their leave and flooed back to the Burrow, Teddy quietly asleep in the latter's arms.

Fred's funeral the next day had been very different. There was no escaping the undercurrent of sadness, but there was also the feeling that Fred would not have wanted people feeling sad on his account. The funeral itself had been relatively quiet, but the wake and party that followed was another thing entirely.

The guest list had been varied, to say the least. Aside from the innumerable Weasley cousins, the other attendees included Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, the remaining members of the Order, most of the DA, and even the entire joke shop staff. The wake had, true to what Fred would surely have intended, been a celebration of his life.

Recollections of a life's worth of mischief were, as expected, plentiful: Professor Flitwick was telling everyone just why he thought the Portable Swamp had been so clever; Professor McGonagall was counting off just how many times she had to tell them off for their latest prank; Hagrid mentioned all the times he had caught the twins in the Forbidden Forest.

As the sun sank over the hills surrounding the Burrow, most of the adults headed home. Those who had remained were, without exception, either Fred's siblings (minus Bill and Percy), members of the DA, and some fellow Gryffindors. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the last to leave, but not before Mr. Weasley had taken their own children, Hermione and Harry, aside.

"Molly and I," he said, "have a fair idea of what is about to happen. It may be hard to believe, but we were once your age, and made our share of mistakes as well. All I can say is, try not to make too big fools of yourselves. And please leave someone sober to carry you over to the fireplace. It's not safe to Disapparate when you've had one too many firewhiskies."

As Mr. Weasley had predicted, Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson had all brought with them large amounts of firewhisky. Soon after, the drinking started and along with it, the rather silly behavior.

Hermione may have been the smartest witch of her generation, but she didn't quite know her limits when it came to firewhisky. She had made the mistake of trying to keep up with Ron, who had a previously undiscovered ability to drink people under the table. (Harry would later find out that _that_ trait was as characteristically Weasley as red hair.) She ended up unwittingly doing a good impersonation of Lavender Brown while sitting on Ron's lap.

The _real_ Lavender, meanwhile, was engaged in what was best described as a three-way snog that included herself, her best friend Parvati Patil, and - Harry had to blink his eyes to make sure of what he was seeing - _Neville_.

Ginny, who had limited herself to butterbeer because she wasn't of age, noticed Harry looking in that direction, and distracted him the best way she knew how. With the agility of a natural Quidditch player she sat herself on Harry's lap and put her arms around his neck. "Stop staring at other people snogging and kiss your girlfriend, Potter," in a voice of mock disapproval.

Slowly, oblivious to the clapping and wolf-whistling all around (instigated in equal parts by Seamus and Dean,) they kissed. Harry and Ginny both wanted nothing more than to stay there, locked in a tight embrace, the taste of one's lips and mouth on the other, but there was a loud coughing noise from the other side of the tent. Somehow, Ron and Hermione, who up to now had been lost in a world of their own, also heard him and stopped.

"Look what you've done," George said, in a tone of mock frustration, slightly slurring his speech. "Now I'll have to work four times as hard, because there's two of you and only one of us left to do the vital work of taking the mickey out of Ickle Ronniekins and my baby sister, to boot."

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all gave George various hand gestures that could all be considered rather rude. Everyone laughed, including George.

The party went on for what seemed like hours, although Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were mostly oblivious to what was going on around them. It was not until after the members of the Gryffindor house Quidditch team began singing a fairly rude version of _Weasley is our King_ that the party began to break up. The fact that more than half of the party couldn't stand on their own feet probably had something to do with it.

It took the combined efforts of Harry, Ginny, Charlie, and Luna, who were the four most sober people, quite some time to help everyone back to the Burrow. There, they could floo back to their respective homes, all with an adequate supply of Sobering Potion that was being handed to them by an exasperated and amused Mrs. Weasley. When everyone had either left or gone off to bed, she vanished the remaining Sobering Potion with her wand and went off to join her husband. "Arthur," she asked, "how did you know that-"

"Molly, I thought it would have been obvious. We can only imagine how difficult it's been for them all, between being guilty by association with Harry and having Death Eaters running things at Hogwarts," he said. "By comparison, those of us in the Order almost had it easy. They needed a chance to 'let off some steam', as I think the Muggles call it."

"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Weasley said. "They're not the only ones celebrating tonight," Mr. Weasley added, pointing with the quill in his hand towards the wireless. "It's like it when Voldemort first fell. Witches and wizards celebrating all over the country. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," he wryly remarked, "will have even more work to do."

Mrs. Weasley had a thoughtful look on her face. "Before I forget, Arthur, I think it's time we both had the talk with Ron and Ginny. And, come to think of it, Harry and Hermione too."

"_The_ talk?" he asked. She nodded. "This wouldn't have anything to do with what happened earlier tonight, would it, Molly?"

"Oh yes, yes it does," she answered. "Hermione was, how shall I say it, all over Ron. I'm sure nothing serious happened," she said, answering the unasked question, "but, well, you know how we were at their age. We must have found every broom closet in the castle by the time we graduated." She turned very slightly pink at the memory. "In any case, Arthur, whatever they may or may not be doing, it's better that they now how to protect themselves."

"Very well," Arthur agreed. "We'll deal with it tomorrow, Molly."

Hermione had never played Quidditch with bludgers, but she imagined that this was how getting hit by one felt. She had never had a headache this bad.

"Good morning," the all-too-chipper voice of Ginny said. "I thought you might not be up to breakfast with everyone else," pointing to a plate with bacon and eggs. "Oh, and don't forget this," she said, handing over a goblet full of purplish liquid. "Sobering Potion works on hangovers too. Or, at least, that's what Charlie told me."

"Did I-"

"Get utterly and completely drunk?"

"Oh Merlin," Hermione said, burying her head in her pillow. "Did I do something stupid, Ginny?"

"Well, you gave Lavender Brown a run for her money when it came to snogging in public."

Hermione groaned in complete and utter annoyance at herself. "Please tell me that's the most stupid thing I did last night."

"Nope. You snogged Ron right in front of Mum after you came into the house."

Ginny could not help but be amused at Hermione's reaction. She threw a pillow over her head so that only her ears were visible, but even those were turning red with embarrassment. "Relax, Hermione," she went on. "It's not like people didn't know the two of you were together now."

It was true. None of the four had been hiding their relationships, and the reactions of the inhabitants of the Burrow was always some variant of "What took you so long?"

"It probably means we'll get _the_ _talk_ from Mum, though. Ron and Harry will have theirs from Dad."

Hermione had to blink twice, not sure what Ginny was talking about. Then it hit her. "Uh, like the one Madam Pomfrey gives all the girls before sixth year?"

Ginny nodded. Even if some parents didn't completely approve, Hogwarts gave all female students some basic sex education in the sixth year. It was as much out of necessity as anything else. One couldn't place so many teenagers far away from home and not expect anything to happen. It had not been pleasant then, and it probably wouldn't be now. Hermione half wondered if she could find Harry's Invisibility Cloak and vanish under it for the next few hours.

The next day found Harry and Ginny together under the shade of a tree beside a pond that was not too far from the Burrow's informal Quidditch pitch. The previous day was not exactly one theywanted to relive: Mrs. Weasley had taken Ginny and Hermione out to the garden separately that afternoon, and Mr. Weasley had done the same for Ron and Harry, using instead the garage where the flying Ford Anglia had once been kept. It was hard to tell who was more embarrassed: Harry, Ron, Hermione,and Ginny - or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Dinner was somewhat quiet - Bill had already returned to Shell Cottage, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all determinedly showing great interest in dinner instead of anything or anyone else. George, however, quickly realized what was going on, and tried to liven up the evening for all concerned.

Now, though, Harry and Ginny were getting to enjoy some valued time to themselves. They had not had much time to themselves at the Burrow, and now that the week of mourning was over they could spend as much time with each other as they wanted. Right now, Harry was lying on the grass, with Ginny's pet pygmy puff Arnold sleeping on his chest, with its owner curled up beside him.

As much as Harry would have liked to spend the entire day doing exactly nothing with Ginny, there was something to attend to. Andromeda was coming over for lunch, and he was pretty sure that she would ask about the package Lupin had left for him. He hadn't had the chance yet to look at it, but was curious as to what was inside it.

"Do you have any idea at all what's inside it, Harry?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. Truth be told, he didn't have any clue at all. "Let's open it, then," she decided.

Harry pulled out his wand and silently cut the envelope open.

They saw that inside were several rolls of faded parchment, another sealed envelope, and a last piece of parchment that looked new. He pulled the new-looking parchment out and saw that it was a letter from Lupin, addressed to him.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this, both Dora and I are dead, and Voldemort will have been defeated. Weknew that there was a good chance that both of us could die before the war was over. It was one of the reasons I thought, at first, that having a child was a mistake, but Dora made me see that I was wrong._

_I never managed to tell you why I made you godfather to Teddy. I knew that more than anyone else, you would understand what Teddy's situation was. Sirius told me how you were raised by your aunt and uncle, and I am sure you will do everything you can to make sure Teddy's childhood is as different from yours as it can be. I am sure you will do well._

_Someday, there will come a time when Teddy will ask about myself and Dora. Inside the envelope is another letter. When the time is right, please give it to Teddy. I know both you and Andromeda will do your best to explain what happened to us, but Teddy will want to hear it from us, no matter how indirectly._

_As for what else is in the envelope, I think you shall find it interesting. When the Order left Grimmauld Place, I found this in Sirius's old bedroom. They are the notes we made when we created the Marauder's Map. While the map was, of course, intended to help us in our mischief-making, the branch of magic it involves is quite useful. I believe that something similar is behind the Weasley family clock, though I never got the chance to ask Arthur or Molly. In any case, I hope you will find them useful._

_I only have one more thing to say to you, Harry. There will be a part of you that will feel that everyone's deaths - mine, Dora's, and the others that I am sure will take place - will be your fault. I understand why you will feel that way, but I ask you not to let your guilt consume you. When your parents died, I made the same mistake of blaming myself for what had happened. It took some time for me to see that I was wrong; that the blame for an evil deed always lies with the one who committed it. You did the best you could, and that is all that the rest of us had a right to ask of you._

_Goodbye Harry. I am sure your parents would have been proud of the man their son has become._

_Remus Lupin_

Harry looked up from the letter towards the clear, cloudless sky. He could almost imagine his parents, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and even Fred looking down from far above. James and Sirius would be cheering Harry on whenever he was alone with Ginny, with Lily telling the two best friends off good-naturedly. Fred would be making faint protestations at Harry "taking their sister's innocence", while Remus and Tonks would be looking on with amusement at everyone else's immaturity.

Lupin had, of course, been right. He _had_ been feeling those things, and while his brain told him that wasn't true the rest of him wasn't as sure. Seeing Lupin absolve him helped, in a way, the rest of him catch up to his head. Maybe now, Harry thought, he could look forward to a future not haunted by images of the past year.

_Not just any future,_ he thought, looking over to Ginny. She had been reading the letter as well. She took Harry's free hand in hers, understanding written in her features. No words were necessary as one pair of vivid green eyes looked into another pair of bright brown ones.

Just then Errol, the Weasley family owl, swooped down and dropped a note beside Ginny. She picked it up and read quickly. "It's Mum," she said. "Lunch is about to start, and she's reminding us not to be late." She mentioned something about a few people coming over. Both Harry and Ginny knew that Molly Weasley's definition of "a few people" wasn't quite the same as everyone else.

"Looks like we've got to go," Harry said. With that, he stood up, raised Ginny to her feet with Arnold on her shoulder, and together they walked back to the Burrow.

_Read and review, please!_


	5. Chapter 5: The Inheritance

Here's the next chapter. Thanks for everyone who's reviewed, and to my beta Dragyn at SIYE. Read and review, please!

_May 24, 1998  
The Burrow_

It turned out that the Weasley Sunday lunch did have more guests than usual, but there was good reason. Kingsley had promoted Mr. Weasley to Senior Undersecretary, which effectively made him the second-highest official in the Ministry. Along with Andromeda, Mrs. Weasley had invited the Minister and a few of Mr. Weasley's friends from the Ministry to celebrate. Harry had not met any of them before, except for Perkins - who looked like he was rapidly approaching senility. Harry was not surprised to learn from Mr. Weasley that Perkins would be retiring within a few weeks.

Over the next few days, everyone in the Burrow fell into something of a comfortable routine. Bill, Charlie, George and Percy all left either that Sunday afternoon or the day after. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione made their way to various corners of the Burrow and the surrounding countryside for some long overdue private time. Sometimes they also played two-a-side Quidditch, and despite all of Ron's attempts to teach her Hermione was still rubbish when it came to brooms.

Mrs. Weasley, meanwhile, was working harder than usual. The Burrow had never been a model of organization, but of late it was even more disordered than usual. Although there was no material destruction except for the roof of the broomshed, the Death Eaters had turned the house upside down during their searches. The worst of it had been set aside so the house could be lived in, though Mrs. Weasley was still spending a lot of time getting everything the way she wanted it. She stoutly refused all offers of help from anyone

This would have been time-consuming enough, but she also had to deal with the horde of reporters that now gathered at the entrance of the Burrow every day. Someone had found out where Harry was staying, and despite Kingsley's pleas for people to respect his privacy photographers had camped out in an attempt to get a glimpse of Harry. This did not go down well with Mrs. Weasley, who tried asking the mob to leave - with little success.

It was not until they got an "anonymous" note informing them just who Mrs. Weasley had dealt with during the final battle that the mob dispersed from the gates of the Burrow, although this only made them change tactics. Ron and Hermione caught a reporter climbing a hedge whose invisibility cloak had gotten caught on a twig. Harry and Ginny spotted someone that vaguely looked like Bozo, Rita Skeeter's old photographer, riding a hippogriff. Ginny's not yet being of age saved him from a Bat-Bogey Hex, but Harry shot off multiple jinxes that made Bozo think better of his plans.

It was not until the middle of the week that this routine changed. Everyone was in the kitchen having lunch when the fireplace roared into life.

"Molly? Are you there?" the head of Hestia Jones asked.

"Hestia, how are you? I haven't seen you in ages. You look tired."

"You know how it is, Molly. Dedalus and I were quite busy getting all those Muggle-borns out of the country, and now getting them back in here is turning out to be just as difficult."

"I understand, Hestia. Do feel free to drop by for lunch if you want to."

"I may take you up on that, Molly. In any case, business before pleasure. Is Harry there?"

Mrs. Weasley waved for Harry to come over to the fireplace. Everyone else followed out of curiosity.

"Ah, Harry. You will be glad to know that your aunt, uncle, and cousin are all back home in Surrey. I must say, though, your uncle is the most unpleasant man I've ever met."

Harry could not help but grin. "That's Uncle Vernon for you."

"Yes, quite. In any case, there's more that we need to discuss, but I'd rather not do it by Floo. Could you come to my office here in Diagon Alley tomorrow afternoon? Molly can give you the address."

Harry was quite confused. What did he need to talk to Hestia Jones about? He had no need or desire to communicate with the Dursleys, and everyone knew that by now. So what _was_ this all about?

Sensing his confusion, Hestia went on. "Harry, my family has been practicing Wizarding law for centuries. You're not in any trouble at all, but I can't say anymore, not by Floo. I'm sure you will find the news I have most interesting. I'll see you tomorrow." She vanished from the fireplace.

"What could it be about?" Harry asked. No one had any good answers. "Whatever it is, you're in good hands," Mrs. Weasley said. "I knew Hestia back at Hogwarts. She's the best at what she does."

Harry learned that evening that Hestia Jones would not be his only stop in Diagon Alley the next day. Bill showed up after dinner, with what could best be described as an amused expression. Harry guessed that he was bringing the official goblin reaction to their daring break-in. He was proven correct when Bill took him, Ron and Hermione out into the garden.

"It can't be too bad," Ron remarked. "You don't look like you've been fired. I half thought you'd get sacked because of what we did."

"Actually, all things considered they're not_too_ angry with you lot. They're still not happy, mind, but it's the Lestranges they're really furious at. And the fact that they're all dead doesn't help. Few things worse than an angry and frustrated goblin."

"Wait. We impersonate someone with Polyjuice Potion, curse both human and goblin guards - not to mention set free one of their dragons - _and_ break into a high-security vault," Hermione said, counting each item with her fingers, "and they're not too mad at us?"

"Exactly," Bill replied. "Truth be told, I'm not really surprised. The worst thing you can do to a goblin is make them look like a fool. Nor do they like being involved in what most of them think are our 'messy' Wizarding wars. As far as they're concerned, the Lestranges did both. They put Gringotts right in the middle of _our_ war, and exploited the goblins for something that they would never had agreed to. Had they known what that cup was, they'd never have let it in."

Harry was struck speechless. It was not what he had expected to hear.

Bill continued. "Don't forget, too, that goblins are pragmatic. It wouldn't look good in the _Daily Prophet_ if they went after you. Also, the way Voldemort put in human supervision flew about as an Erumpent would. If anything, what they want from you three is to find out just how you did it - which is why I'm talking to all of you."

"Don't they have Griphook for that?" Harry asked.

Bill just shook his head. "His fellow goblins don't trust him much. Last I heard, he's been exiled to some far-off Gringotts branch in Africa. They can't exactly fire him, but they've done the worst they can."

"So what do they want us to do? Walk them through what we did?" Harry asked.

"Exactly," Bill nodded. "The goblins are a little worried. No one's managed to break into the vaults at the level where the Lestrange vault is - except for you three. You can bet every two-bit criminal - like, say, Mundungus Fletcher - is going to be inspired by what you did, and not in a good way. They want to know what you did so they can stop the next group of would-be bank robbers."

Harry sighed. "Okay. So how does this work?"

"Show up at Gringotts tomorrow morning and ask for me by name. I'll send the word up to the goblins, and we'll all take a walk down the tunnels. I'll be your escort, more or less."

"Did they ever get the dragon back?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so. It's still hiding somewhere in Scotland. Doesn't matter, though. They brought in a replacement dragon already. They're having a load of trouble training her." Everyone grimaced at the thought of how difficult training a dragon would be.

"I'll see you all tomorrow then. Fleur's waiting for me at Shell Cottage." Bill started to walk towards the Disapparition point, but stopped as if he had suddenly remembered something.

"Harry, your vault, it's not to deep in the tunnels, right? Just a key to gain entrance?"

"Yeah, why? Did something else come up?"

"Just something I heard. There's this high-security vault not too far from the Lestrange vault that hasn't been opened for years, but I heard that someone was coming in to check on it tomorrow. And I may be wrong, but I thought he mentioned 'Potter.' Any idea what it's about?"

"No, no idea, Bill. Sorry."

Bill just shrugged. "Could be I just misheard him. Doesn't matter much, anyway. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves the next morning in front of Gringotts. They had left Ginny at the joke shop where she was helping George out with restocking the shop. Customers had cleared out practically the whole store the previous weekend, and even now there were still more people than usual. George needed all the help he could get.

The trio spent more than an hour walking the goblins through their break-in of Gringotts. Goblins were not known for displays of emotion, but it was clear they were shocked by the sheer brazenness of it. Even Bill, who had heard the story before at the Burrow, was still amazed. Harry, Ron and Hermione all had expressions that clearly said, _what were we thinking when we broke in here?_

Harry took the opportunity to refill his money bag. All of Harry's material possessions had been with him during the past year, and as a result his clothing (consisting mostly of hand-me-downs from Dudley) was even in worse shape than it normally was. There had been an advertisement for a newly-opened store in Diagon Alley that specialized in Muggle-style clothing, and Harry had decided to buy some items there. Ginny insisted that she come along, saying that Harry (like most guys) had no fashion sense. Harry agreed, but only if he could spend some money on her as well. Eventually, after some protests, Ginny likewise agreed.

Harry and Ginny eventually went back to the joke shop to meet back with Ron and Hermione, having sent their purchases via Floo back to the Burrow. Entering through a back entrance, they saw Ron and Hermione in the storage room.

"Blimey, they're moving through inventory like a starving flobberworm," Ron said. "George said they just got new deliveries yesterday. We just finished taking down the inventory. You guys ready to grab a bite to eat?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at this. "Honestly, Ron, you and your stomach. Harry, Ginny, you didn't hex any of the photographers following you, did you?"

"No, but they bloody deserved it," Ginny said with a great deal of annoyance. When Harry and Ginny had left the joke shop for their shopping trip, they had been spotted by photographers and were followed all the way to the clothing store. Like a pack of hungry dogs, they had waited for the couple to emerge, but with the help of Harry's Invisibility Cloak Harry and Ginny made it back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes without being spotted.

Harry sighed. "Call it a hazard of dating me, Gin."

"I can live with that," she replied, moving to kiss Harry before Ron loudly interrupted.

"Oi! Do you two _really_ have to do that in front of me?"

"You're hardly one to talk, little bro," George said as he entered the room. "I heard some _very_ interesting noises in here earlier." Both Ron and Hermione turned pink. "Anyway, where's the box of Extendable Ears? We're fresh out."

Ron pointed to a box right beside the door. George grinned as he picked it up. "Try to keep your hands to yourselves, you four," he said with a smirk.

"You are right, though, Harry," Hermione said once George had left. "To everyone out there, you're now a celebrity whether you like it or not. Once they find out you're seeing him," she continued to Ginny, "they'll probably consider you a celebrity too. For now, they'll be following you around if you're in somewhere with a lot like people like Diagon Alley or, say, Hogsmeade."

"Same goes for you two, though. How come there isn't a mob following you?" Harry asked.

"There was. Not as many, but we had a few follow us," Hermione replied. "You'll always be more famous, Harry, there's no way around it. You'll just have to grin and bear it."

Harry groaned. He knew Hermione was, as usual, completely correct - but it gave him little comfort.

After eating at a café right across Diagon Alley from the joke shop, the quartet made their way to Hestia Jones' office by Floo. To their surprise, George joined them because it turned out he had an appointment with her as well.

"We're settling Fred's estate," he explained, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Simple enough, since it's really just the shop, but Dad said it's still better to have it all in ink somewhere."

One by one, they each stepped into the fireplace in George's flat and emerged out into the waiting room of Jones, Jones & Associates. The young welcome witch recognized them immediately. She pointed Ron, Hermione, George, and Ginny towards the couch and coffee table where some tea and crumpets were waiting and then led Harry through a door and several wood-paneled corridors to Hestia's office.

"Ah, Harry, please, take a seat. Thank you, Lauren," Hestia said.

"Now, where were we," she said as she shuffled papers on her desk. "Ah yes, here. Harry, how much do you know about the inheritance your parents left you?"

Harry shrugged. "There's my vault at Gringotts, I suppose. That's all there is, as far as I know."

"Actually, Harry, there's more. A lot more. By my estimates, you'll be one of the richest persons in Britain once all of it is transferred to you."

"I don't understand," Harry said. He felt like he had been Confunded.

"Your family," Hestia explained, "was always good with business, both in the Wizarding World and in the Muggle world. Over the years, they built up a fortune as large as any other family, even the Malfoys. Eventually, when his parents died of dragon pox, your father became the latest heir to the family fortune.

"Before they went into hiding, your parents made arrangements for the family fortune. Some of it - the portion currently in your own vault - was set aside specifically for your own needs such as school expenses. They wanted you to have enough to live comfortably, but not enough to think that just because you were rich you could get away with anything.

"The rest was to be held for you in a trust fund to be given to you the day you became of age. However, my father and I, the partners of this law firm, decided that last year was not a good time, and, sadly, we turned out to be correct.

"It is now a time of peace, and you can finally take what is rightfully yours, Harry. I have cleared all the technicalities with the Ministry; all you need is to sign here."

Hestia handed Harry a parchment, and pointed to where he should touch the parchment with his wand. Harry tried to read it, but it was full of legalese and might as well have been in ancient runes. He tapped his wand right at the bottom, beside her pointing finger.

"Okay," Harry said, feeling a mixture of shock and amazement. He had thought the gold in his vault was a fortune, and now he had even more? "How much is it all, anyway?"

"We cannot come up with an exact figure because most of the fortune is in Muggle companies," Hestia replied. "Your grandfather was wise enough to realize that there are as many, if not more, business opportunities in the Muggle world. There are more of them than there are of us, after all. However, whatever the exact number is, you are now quite comfortably wealthy."

Harry stayed quiet, digesting this latest bit of news. "There is one more thing, Harry. Your great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents all hired us - my family - as their solicitors. Would you like to do the same?"

"Of, of course," Harry said.

Hestia smiled. "I had hoped you would say that, Harry."

She handed over several rolls of parchment and indicated where he should sign, saying, "You might find those other papers of some interest. It contains the businesses that you own a part of, both Muggle and Wizarding. I'm sure you would appreciate some of them."

Harry was not sure what Hestia meant, but he read over the list anyway. It was not until the second roll that he saw what she was referring to.

_Cleansweep Broom Company (and fully-owned subsidiary Firebolt Sporting Brooms): 80 percent share_

Harry could not help himself and smiled. While he was going over the rolls of parchment, Hestia had spoken to her welcome witch through an enchanted mirror and called George in.

"It appears that you have inherited the family knack for business. Please stay," she said, as Harry made to get up from his seat. "You and Mr. Weasley both need to hear the next item on the agenda."

If it was possible, Harry was now more confused than ever. Wasn't George here to settle Fred's will? Fred hadn't left him anything, did he?

Lauren led George into the office. While George sat himself down, Hestia unrolled a piece of parchment and read it.

"Ah, here it is. Last Will and Testament of Fred Weasley. He left everything to you, George. The personal effects don't require paperwork, but the 30 percent share of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes does. You have to sign these papers, and so do you Harry."

"Huh? What's going on?" Harry asked. "If Fred had thirty, you must have had thirty too... so who owns the rest? Why do I have to sign?"

George's face looked like he had been caught red-handed in the middle of a prank, "You, uh, you do Harry. We couldn't just take a thousand galleons and not give you anything, could we? So we set it up so you owned forty percent of the outfit, but we'd be in charge of actually running things. Fred and I planned to tell you after Bill's wedding, but that plan didn't work so well, did it? Anyway, we owe you a rather hefty chunk of gold, Harry. Call it three year's worth of dividends."

"Come off it, George. I don't need the gold. I've got more than enough."_There's an understatement,_ he thought.

A sudden thought hit Harry. He didn't need the money, but he knew how to put it to good use. He told George what he wanted to do, and George idly scratched his chin in thought. "Fred was right, you know," he said after some contemplation.

"He said you were mental, but a _noble_ kind of mental. You do realize that this is a lot of gold you're giving up, are you? Fred and I had some big plans, and I've got no intention of slowing down just because he isn't around anymore."

Harry shook his head. "I've got no right to it," he said. "It's not my name up on the sign, and Merlin knows the work you had to put into it."

"If you say so mate," George said. "I think I'll wait until the next Sunday to let Mum know. I'll need the time to figure how much to put in the vault anyway - Fred was always better at fixing the books."

"So go hire an accountant. You're too brilliant to get stuck doing the books."

"Yeah, I guess I will." George grinned.

"Oh, silly me, I forgot something," Hestia said. "Harry, you also inherited a house. A rather nice one, I should add. No one's lived in it since your parents went into hiding, and even then they were only there for a few months."

Harry's eyebrows went up at this. His only experience with a Wizarding house that had not been lived in for many years was Grimmauld Place, and Harry was not terribly interested in owning another decrepit building.

"It's not anything like the old Order headquarters, Harry," Hestia said, as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "We've been making sure it's all in good condition."

Harry's only reaction was to nod. It was all too much information to process in just one day, he thought.


	6. Chapter 6: Muggle Transport

Thanks again to my hardworking beta Dragyn at SIYE, and to everyone who's reviewed. It's the only kind of pay we get, so keep them coming!

_May 27, 1998  
The Burrow  
_  
When Mrs. Weasley found out about Harry's new inheritance, she decided it was as good a reason as any to have an even better dinner than usual. Ever since the battle, Mrs. Weasley had taken it upon herself to feed Harry, Ron and Hermione with as much food as they could all eat - perhaps to make up for several months spent largely on a diet of mushrooms.

Inside, however, Harry was a bit conflicted about what others would call his good fortune. He never had much money at Privet Drive, and he hadn't touched his Gringotts vault beyond his own modest needs. Most of the mountain of galleons had lain there, untouched by any hands.

Just as importantly, Harry knew the Weasleys had never had much money. He would have been more than happy to give most of his gold to them, but he knew that would never work. Merlin knew they needed it more than he ever did. _On the other hand_, he thought, _they would never turn down gold from one of their own, would they? And the only people that know the whole story are Hestia, George, and me. _He'd tell Ron and Ginny eventually, but for now it would be a secret.

He was anxious to see the house he had inherited. He couldn't impose on the Weasleys forever, and while he had agreed to stay there until he could return to Hogwarts that was an arrangement that Harry didn't want to keep for very long. He owned Grimmauld Place as well, but he had no intention of living in there either. Maybe, now, there was a place that he could call a home of his very own.

Two days later, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all playing a game of Exploding Snap in the sitting room while waiting for Hestia to arrive. Like Hogwarts, Harry's new house was protected by powerful wards that meant one could not fly, Floo, or Apparate into it. Hestia could not remove the wards because only a Potter - either by blood or marriage - could modify them.

Because of this, she was picking them up in her own enchanted car - similar to the ones the Ministry itself had - and would drive them there herself. It would not be a long drive not just because of the enchantments the vehicle had, but because it wasn't too far from the Burrow. It would have been possible to fly to it from the Burrow, but the only broomstick in the Weasley family broomshed that would have survived the trip was Ron's Cleansweep Eleven.

Harry wondered what he would find inside. He had very little to remember his parents by, except for the photo album Hagrid had given him years ago and the letter and picture he had taken from Grimmauld Place. Would he find more of the same there, or would his parents have taken the items that meant the most to them to Godric's Hollow? Harry didn't know which outcome he wanted more.

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen. "Hermione, it's Arthur. He's calling via Floo from the Ministry - I think it's about your parents, dear."

Hermione gave a sudden gasp and ran towards the open door, pulling Ron with her. Harry and Ginny followed the pair and soon they were all in front of the fireplace.

"Hermione," Mr. Weasley's head said, "we just got word from the Australian Ministry of Magic. It's best if we discuss this matter here in my office. I've sent word to have someone escort you from the atrium to my office. I think the rest of you," he added, turning to Harry, Ron and Ginny, "will all want to hear it as well."

"We'll be there as soon as possible, Mr. Weasley," Hermione replied, a little unsteadily. The head in the fireplace vanished with a pop.

"What about Hestia, though? Isn't she supposed to arrive soon?" Ginny asked.

"Don't worry about that, dears," Mrs. Weasley said, "I'll let her know once she gets here."

"I have a better idea," Harry said. He pulled out his wand and flicked it in the air; a silver stag shot out from it and sped out the open door.

Mrs. Weasley nodded in approval. "Alright, everyone, let's not keep Arthur waiting." One by one, they Flooed to the Ministry of Magic's atrium. The trio all noted with satisfaction that the hideous statue fromwhen they stole the locket from Umbridge was gone, although there was still nothing in its place.

They were soon in Mr. Weasley's office on the first floor of the Ministry. It was far more spacious than the old office Harry had been in years ago. Mr. Weasley had been examining one of the many rolls of parchment on his desk, but he stopped when he saw the group enter. Ginny, the last person to enter, shut the door behind her.

"Ah, yes. Hermione, we just got word from the Australian Minister of Magic. They've succeeded in finding your parents. They've established a successful dental practice in... Sydney, I think. The Ministry there is keeping an eye on them, just to make sure any Death Eaters or sympathizers don't harm them."

Hermione was visibly relieved. Mr. Weasley went on. "The Obliviators there say it would be best if you were there when their memories are restored. I consulted with ours, and they told me the same thing. You want to go to Australia as soon as possible, correct?"

"Of... of course," she said, nodding.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "I thought you would. There's just a small problem - I'm not sure when we can get you out of the country."

Hermione looked crestfallen, not understanding why that was the case.

"The international Portkeys are very problematic at the moment. It could take two weeks or more - and that's even with Kingsley clearing as much of the bureaucratic paperwork as he can."

"What if we don't go by magic, Mr. Weasley? What if we go by Muggle transport - you know, airplanes?" Harry asked.

Harry thought he saw a hint of satisfaction in Mr. Weasley's eyes at the mention of airplanes. "I've thought about it. However, neither Kingsley or I think it is a good idea. Harry, Voldemort and many of his supporters are dead, but that does not mean the risk has vanished.

"It's one thing to have you lot out in Diagon Alley, where if anyone tried to harm you they'd be hexed before they even got their wands out. If you're on a Muggle plane, you cannot perform magic, and there will be hundreds of people on board - any one of which could be Imperiused to do you harm. Let's not even mention the thousands of people at the airport. It would be too dangerous."

There was a solution somewhere out there, Harry knew. He didn't know what it was yet - and then it hit him. Not _everyone_ flew with hundreds of people on the same plane, did they? He vaguely remembered something he'd seen back at Privet Drive - how millionaires flew about the world in their own private planes. He _was_ one of those millionaires now, wasn't he?

"What about... private planes, I think, they call them? It'd be just the four of us and the two pilots. That would be safer, wouldn't it?"

This was a point that had been debated in the Burrow several times already. Everyone knew that eventually Hermione would have to make the trip to Australia, but who else was going had been an open question. Harry, Ron and Ginny all wanted to go, but Mrs. Weasley had taken some convincing before finally allowing Ginny to go. Only Mr. Weasley's assurance that they would be perfectly safe in Australia - under guard at all times by Aurors - had reassured her.

Hermione realized what Harry was thinking. "Harry, you can't do that, it'd cost too much-"

"It's the least I can do, Hermione," Harry replied. "What good is that money if all it does is sit in Gringotts or some Muggle bank? At least this way, it can do something useful."

"All, alright Harry," Hermione conceded.

Harry knew that she wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of him spending a pile of Galleons on her, but she could see the gesture for what it was, and would accept it.

Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley was clearly thinking it over. "Alright," he finally said after much contemplation. "I'll tell Kingsley. Harry, I suppose it'll be Hestia Jones who'll arrange all this?"

"Yes," Harry replied with a nod. "Could I borrow your fireplace to call her, Mr. Weasley?"

"Of course, Harry. Wait a moment, though." He pointed his wand at the fireplace, and a thin jet of emerald light shot from it and vanished into the mantelpiece. "There. The Floo Regulator should give you access now."

Harry walked over to the fireplace, tossed in the Floo Powder and soon felt the familiar, if never comfortable, sensation of his head traveling over the Floo network. Eventually, he ended up looking into the same waiting room he had been in a few days earlier.

"Lauren," he said to the welcome witch, "is Hestia there? Please tell her it's urgent."

"Of course," she replied, half-walking, half-running to the door. In under a minute Lauren had returned with Hestia right behind her.

"Harry," Hestia said, "I got your Patronus just before I left. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes it is, but we do need something arranged." Harry explained what he needed. "Of course, Harry. I'll send you an owl when everything is ready. With luck, it should be ready by tomorrow."

Harry pulled his head back and fell a little awkwardly as he returned to Mr. Weasley's office. _I will never get the hang of the bloody thing,_ Harry thought glumly. _Why don't they make a fireplace that you don't have to kneel into to make a Floo call? There's a thought_.

_Hestia was as good as Mrs. Weasley said, _Harry thought after reading the letter that had been owled to the Burrow before breakfast the next day. The solicitor had arranged for a private jet to take the foursome from a smaller airport on the outskirts of London. They would leave early in the morning, but they would have to spend almost an entire day in the air before they could arrive in Sydney.

Once Hermione knew when they would leave, she began preparing with such fervor that Harry was half-tempted to spike her food with a good amount of Calming Draught. Fortunately, that proved unnecessary as Ron and Mrs. Weasley were able to settle her down by midday. After that, Harry and Ginny took over the preparations.

They didn't know how long they would be in Australia, so they were taking enough clothes to stay there for at least a week. This mostly consisted of jeans, shirts, and Mrs. Weasley's hand-knitted sweaters. They would also carry some things to entertain themselves on the long trip - two wizard chess sets, some books that would qualify as "light reading" by Hermione's standards, and some Exploding Snap cards. All this was going in Hermione's beaded bag and three rucksacks - one each for Harry, Ginny and Ron. The three rucksacks now also featured Undetectable Extension Charms that Harry, following instructions from Hermione, had placed on all of them.

Mrs. Weasley was also making them some "light snacks" for the trip - which, in this case, included plenty of treacle tart and trifle, among the other snacks. Harry had also sent for some Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans by owl order. They were taking enough food that in between what they were bringing and the food that was part of the airplane charter, Harry was sure even Ron would be completely stuffed.

No one anticipated any trouble on the trip, but they weren't taking any chances. Along with the clothes and food were items from the joke shop that had proven useful in the past year for purposes other than mischief. Beside the Skiving Snackboxes and the Decoy Detonators was the newest prototype product: Extendable Ears Pro. It was essentially a cordless version of the Extendable Ears that George, with help from Ron, had only managed to get working the previous week. It wasn't perfect yet, but it was close enough and went into the pile of things that they would bring.

The following day, they all lined up beside the fireplace to head off to the Leaky Cauldron, where Hestia would meet them. From there, she'd drive them in her enchanted Land Rover to the airport from which they would depart. Bags packed and wands discreetly tucked away into their jeans, they all received hugs from Mrs. Weasley.

"Take care of yourselves, dears," she said. Her husband had assured her that this would be perfectly safe, that once in Australia they would be under the full protection of their Auror Office. Still, like any mother in the world, she worried. It was what mothers did, and she would not be completely reassured until they were all back at the Burrow.

One by one, they all took some Floo Powder, walked into the fireplace, and soon found themselves at the Leaky Cauldron. Hestia was waiting for them at the bar, where she had been chatting with Tom the barkeep. She helped them all to their feet and they were soon out on Charing Cross Road. The green Land Rover was waiting for them, and they were all piled inside. Hestia was in the front beside the gruff-looking man doing the driving, with Harry, Hermione and Ginny in the middle and Ron in the very back with all of their bags.

It was a short drive from the Leaky Cauldron to the small airport they were leaving from, and they drove right into the hangar, where their plane was waiting for them.

"Blimey," Ron said as the car stopped beside the plane. "Muggles can make come up with the most amazing stuff, can they?"

Harry nodded in agreement. The business jet shone in the early morning light. It looked like it belonged up in the air, not sitting on the ground. Even Ron and Ginny, who had the most limited exposure to Muggle technology, could not help but be impressed.

They all got out of the SUV. The pilots were standing beside the small stairway leading up to the plane's doorway, and Hestia introduced them to the quartet.

"You're the ones we're flying off to Australia, eh?" the taller one said. "Bob Clarkson. I'll be your captain for the flight. This here's Frank Hammond, co-pilot. It's a long flight, and we need to make a stop in Tokyo to refuel so we're bringing along a relief pilot. Name's Tony May. He's off filing the paperwork for our trip. While Frank here gets everything ready, let me show where you'll be staying for just about a whole day."

They all went up the stairway and turned right. "This is the galley - our kitchen in the skies. No real cooking of course, just reheating. Still, we've got plenty of snacks if you get peckish. We'll need to have lunch somewhere in the air, of course, so whoever's not flying the plane will be more than happy to help."

"Mr. Clarkson, you don't have to do that-" Hermione replied, but Bob cut him off.

"It's no big deal, Ms. Granger. We've got a microwave oven on board, so it's not that hard. And please don't call me Mr. Clarkson - the only people who call me that are my superiors when they're telling me off. Anyway, let me show you the passenger cabin."

All six of them went onwards into the passenger cabin. What they saw amazed them in its luxury. Closest to the galley were four seats, a pair on each side facing each other with a table between each. Beyond that was a larger table for four, with a credenza on the other side of the cabin. At the very back were two large couches facing each other. It was all finished in the finest wood and leather that made even the plush Gryffindor common room look downright plain.

"These seats here, they fold out into beds if you want to. Here's how," Bob said as he demonstrated the proper procedure to convert the seats into beds and back, as well as how to use the provided seat belts. "Head's there in the back - just for you. The three of us have our own up front. Luggage goes in that door there, but I see you're all traveling light. Now, I suppose the four of you and Ms. Jones here have some unfinished business. I'll see with Frank up front when we can leave." He left the cabin, leaving the four with Hestia.

"A cousin of mine moved to Australia himself a while back, and he's in the legal profession too. I've owled her, and he'll arrange your flight back. Arthur sent your travel arrangements to the Australian Ministry, so they'll have people to welcome you in Sydney. Good luck to all of you. Travel safe."

"Thank you, Hestia, for everything," Harry said.

"It's my job, Harry. But you're welcome," Hestia said as she left the cabin.

"You know, I always thought Dad's fascination with all that Muggle rubbish was nonsense. But this... this is not rubbish. Wow," Ginny said as she dropped herself into one of the chairs.

"Beats an old Ford Anglia to fly around, doesn't it?" Ron said. "Still, a full day in here? And I thought the Hogwarts Express was a long trip."

Soon, a voice came out of the overhead speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We've been given clearance to depart for Tokyo. Please take a seat and fasten your seat belts."

They all settled themselves in the couches in the very back. Ron and Ginny were all staring out of the round windows, Hermione looked nervous, and Harry was, oddly enough, the calmest of the lot.

The Gulfstream jet slowly taxied out to the runway. Once it reached the end of the runway, it paused briefly before beginning its takeoff run down the runway. Soon, it was soaring into the sky, leaving the lights of London behind in its trail.

Back in the Burrow, two hands turned to "Traveling" on the Weasley family clock.


	7. Chapter 7: Down Under

Here's the next update! Sorry for the long delay, real-life sucks the big time, eh?

My eternal thanks to the hardest-working beta in the world, Dragyn. Read and review - we authors like them. Please?

* * *

_May 30, 1998  
Somewhere over the Arctic Ocean_

Once they were safely in the air, the four began passing the time much like they would on the Hogwarts Express - except, of course, that the interior of a very expensive business jet was infinitely more comfortable than the train ever could be.

The moment the pilots told them it was safe to unbuckle their seat belts, Harry and Ginny immediately decided to unfold the back couches forming the widest and biggest bed any of them had ever seen. It was big enough to accommodate all four of them though, at the moment, only Harry and Ginny were on it - Ron and Hermione were both engaged in a game of wizard chess.

That one game turned into a seven-game series. Hermione proved to be the stiffest competition Ron had ever seen, but in the end he prevailed taking four games to three. Ron blamed at least one of his losses on Ginny, who had chosen that moment to discreetly snog Harry in the giant bed in his line of sight.

After that Hermione had settled down to read _Hogwarts, a History_ while Ron, Ginny and Harry started a game of Exploding Snap. Harry, however, had never learned to play particularly well and soon settled in for his own bit of reading: the notes on the Marauder's Map.

All four of the Marauders clearly had a hand in it, since the notes were written by four different people. The magic in the notes was quite sophisticated, and from what he knew of Location Spells, N.E.W.T.-level at least. However, Harry was sufficiently confident in his own magical abilities that he felt he could recreate the gist of the map if he wanted to. _I ought to make a version of the map for the Burrow_, Harry thought, _so Ron and Hermione won't walk in on Ginny and me again._

Harry idly thought back to the day before they had found out about Hermione's parents. Harry and Ginny had been in the broomshed in the middle of a rather fiery snog when the door suddenly opened. Harry, who had been leaning against the door, had fallen out rather awkwardly. His glasses had also fallen off, but he managed to see that Hermione had been the culprit with Ron right in tow behind her. It was obvious that they wanted the broomshed for the same reasons that Harry and Ginny did. No one had been able to look anyone else in the eye at dinner that night.

Eventually, everyone on the plane decided to have dinner. Ron and Ginny took the opportunity to try out fizzy drinks. Ginny thought they were far too sweet, and Ron would only say they were better than that "cappuccino rubbish." Neither would give up butterbeer for it, and Hermione thought it was just as well.

"At least butterbeer doesn't ruin the teeth like fizzy drinks do," she said. "I never liked them much myself."

She sighed at the thought of her parents, and what they would have thought of fizzy drinks. "I do hope they're okay. I mean, they knew I would modify their memories, it was actually their idea, but still..."

No one was sure how to respond. After dinner they all went to bed, with Ron and Hermione taking the sleeping area in the back and Harry and Ginny taking the one in the middle.

The plane landed briefly in Tokyo to refuel, and soon it was back over the Pacific. Everyone felt sleepy, but Hermione had figured out that the best way to adjust to Sydney time was to keep awake, so they would be sleepy by bedtime in Australia. They passed the time much like they had the first leg - Harry and Ginny were playing some more wizard chess, while Ron and Hermione discreetly snogged in the back area.

Ginny made noises that rather sounded like 'hypocrite.' When Hermione heard this, she dragged Ron off to the lavatory and locked it behind her. This didn't stop Ginny, who took the wrapper of a Chocolate Frog and threw it at the door. It sailed harmlessly away.

"She put an Imperturbable Charm on the door," Ginny said. "Oh, they're incorrigible. They're worse than we are, Harry." She winked rather suggestively at the last point.

Harry decided, then and there, that while Ron and Hermione were his two best friends, he was not going to let them get the better of him when it came to _that_.

* * *

By some miracle, they all managed to make themselves decent as their plane descended towards Sydney. Soon they were safely on the ground, and while Ginny, Ron and Hermione were gathering their bags Harry thanked their flight crew.

"Don't mention it," Bob said. "you've been pretty easy passengers. We've had to fly some real prats in there - shame I can't tell you. You'll probably fly back the same way, right?" Harry nodded. "Maybe we'll meet again then. Take care of yourself, Harry."

Harry shook hands with the pilots before getting off the airplane. He saw Hermione talking with someone in a rather severe suit at the bottom of the stairs and Ron and Ginny taking in their surroundings.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," the man in the severe suit said, "Roger Irwin, International Magical Cooperation Office. Minister Norton has instructed that you be given all possible cooperation."

"Uh, thanks," Harry said, not quite sure how to respond. Fortunately, Roger saved him from having to reply.

"These two will be your escorts while you're in Australia," he said, pointing towards two men dressed far more casually. They had both mastered the art of dressing like Muggles.

"Arnold McKinley," the older one said. "This here's James Sawyer. We're both Aurors with the Ministry over here. No reason for any trouble, but we're not taking any chances. You've been booked into a suite at a nearby Muggle hotel, and they were nice enough to send a car over."

The 'car' turned out to be another comfortable stretch limousine. _I could get used to this, _Harry thought with a grin. Ginny fell asleep against his shoulder, while Ron was whispering reassurances to Hermione, who was looking out the windows aimlessly.

Thankfully, the traffic was not too heavy and it wasn't long before they arrived at the hotel. Harry stayed behind at the lobby to handle their check-in while Ron, Hermione and Ginny proceeded to their suite. It was about fifteen minutes before Harry got in the elevator ready to catch some sleep.

He fully expected that he'd have to share a room with Ron like they usually did at the Burrow, but what he found surprised him. Arnold was reading the local Wizarding newspaper in the sitting room and pointed him to his room - and there instead of Ron he found Ginny.

_There were worse ways to spend a night in a foreign city_, Harry decided.

* * *

An Australian Obliviator visited the hotel the following morning. Before they could restore the memories of the Grangers he needed to find out exactly what Hermione had done.

"Memory modification is, in itself, not easy," he had said, "but memory restoration is much more difficult. One must know the circumstances of when the spell was performed, the memories that have been modified, everything. Try not to leave anything out."

Hermione just nodded in response, and began telling the Obliviator the whole tale. This was something that the quartet had discussed on the flight over, while under the protection of a _Muffliato_.

Hermione had been keeping her parents well-informed about all the goings-on at Hogwarts, so they understood the threat Voldemort had posed - _Probably more than many wizards_, Harry wryly thought. Neither of them had been surprised when Hermione told them her plans for what was supposed to be her seventh year. Her mother had not understood at first, but her father did. He had served in the Royal Navy, and understood more than he wanted to.

Whatever their feelings about Hermione's plans, her parents recognized that they would be in grave danger. Her mother provided the destination: a cousin lived in Australia, and from what she had been told it was a reasonably good place to live in. It was Hermione who had suggested both the false names and wiping their memories - something that had initially not gone down well, but in the end her parents conceded.

It took a week for all the preparations to be completed. Pictures, letters, anything with a sign that there was such a person named Hermione Granger were placed into a trunk and buried in the backyard. Eventually, the only thing left to do was to modify their memories.

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Hermione said.

"I know you don't, sweetheart," her father replied, "but life's never fair. You've got to do what you've got to do."

"Good luck, Hermione," her mother whispered. "We'll see you soon." Those were her parents' last words before she put them under and cast the Memory Charm on them.

Back in the Sydney hotel room, Hermione was quietly composing herself. The Obliviator had been quiet since Hermione had finished her narration, and there was an uncomfortable silence that went on for several moments.

"Ms. Granger," the Obliviator finally said, "I should be able to reverse the Memory Charm with no adverse effects. I suppose you want to do it as soon as possible, so I suggest we do it later today. Let's say... six in the evening or so. I'll arrange a Portkey to take you there. They should be home by that time, so we'll have all night if we need it."

Hermione nodded and the Obliviator left the room. Ginny took it upon herself to lighten up the atmosphere. "Why don't we take a look around Sydney? According to this," she said as she held up a copy of _A Magical Guide to Australia_, "there's plenty of places to see around here."

"That book's rubbish," James said. "We know just about every corner of this city, both magical and Muggle. If we ever retired from being Aurors, we'd make ourselves a nice little pile, wouldn't we, Arnie?"

The other Auror chuckled. "Sure, James. It's not like being an Auror brings in the Galleons, mate. Seriously, though, we know this city inside out. How'd you like the two galleon tour?"

"We'll take it," Ron said. "What the bloody hell are we waiting for?"

There was no word to describe their two Auror guards other than 'cool', everyone agreed. The places they visited were definitely not on the beaten track, but everyone liked it that way. After a day spent exploring the city, they found themselves back in their hotel suite ordering up room service. In the middle of their meal, an owl arrived with their Portkey and a letter that came from the Australian Ministry of Magic.

_The Portkey will take you to a park not far from where the Grangers currently live. I'll be waiting there for you with Michael Howard, the Obliviator assigned to the case._

_- Stan_

"Who's Stan?" Harry asked.

"Stan's Stanley Jeffries. He's our boss. Nice bloke to work for, actually. Has a lively sense of humor," Arnold said. "Not a day over forty, but I reckon he's one of the best out there. Brilliant at posing as a Muggle, too."

"That reminds me," Ron said, "how come lots of wizards here dress up as Muggles? I mean, we were visiting the local equivalent of our Diagon Alley, and half of the people weren't in robes. Is there something we should know?"

"Oh, that," Arnold said. "We do things a little differently here down under. We're not big on formality here and, for most people, robes are part of that. Besides, robes can be a tad uncomfortable out in the middle of the Outback."

"That's true," his partner said. He told everyone the story of their first field assignment, which had taken them to a rather distant corner of Australia. "That's the life of an Auror, mate. Didn't the papers say you want to become one?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said.

"I would have thought that after seven years you'd have enough of dealing with dark wizards," Arnold said. "Still, I'm sure you'll make a good one. From everything the papers write about you, you've got good instincts. Merlin knows if you didn't have them, we wouldn't be talking now, would we?"

"I wasn't the only one out there, they-" Harry waved towards Ron, Hermione and Ginny - "did their part too. I wouldn't be here without them."

"Same way out in the field," James said. "Arnie's here saved my rear quite a few times, and I've done the same for him. Like he said, you'll do well. Better than that chap Dawlish, at any rate."

"You knew Dawlish?" Harry asked.

"You don't sound too impressed with him," Arnie said.

"Well, he always was something of a prat," Ron said. "I mean, most of the time he was going after the good guys, wasn't he? Harry, Dumbledore, Muggle-borns, Neville's grandmum - for an Auror, he sure seemed to be confused who were the good guys, wasn't he?"

"We actually met him about... ten years ago, I think. The guy he was pursuing fled here," James said. "Behaved like he was the bloody Minister himself. Thank Merlin we caught him quickly, otherwise I'd have hexed him myself." Everyone laughed, and the image of Dawlish fleeing from a cloud of flying bogies could not help but plant itself in Harry's mind.

Soon it was almost time for the Portkey to activate. They all reached out to touch it and felt the familiar motion of a hook behind their navel, which took them into the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8: Home

Yes, I know my updates are slowing down. I'm sorry, but real life keeps intervening. It sucks, doesn't it? Anyway, thanks again to my invaluable beta Dragyn for all his hard work. Read and review, if you like. Or even if you don't! Oh, and does anyone really think I own HP? _  
_

* * *

_June 1, 1998  
Somewhere outside Sydney, Australia_

The group landed with a thud in a park. The landing spot was surrounded by bushes which protected them from casual onlookers, but Stan Jeffries was right there and helped everyone to their feet.

"Welcome to Kookaburra, the fastest growing Muggle suburb of Sydney. Your parents," he said to Hermione, "live in a modest two-bedroom house a few blocks from this park. If you will all follow me, please."

They walked for about ten minutes before they came upon a house that looked exceedingly ordinary. The neighborhood reminded Harry of Little Whinging. Kookaburra had the same feeling of dullness that he remembered rather less than fondly.

Stan opened the door and let everyone in. Hermione was clearly surprised, and Stan answered the unspoken question.

"I managed to put some Sleeping Draught in their food," he explained. "Once they were both asleep, I let myself in and sent for Michael."

Hermione's parents were sitting on the couch in front of the television, as if they had fallen asleep while watching a particularly boring film. The Obliviator sat himself on the coffee table and began casting the spells needed to restore the hidden memories. There was a rhythmic quality to it, like he was a conductor leading an orchestra.

Eventually, Hermione's parents woke up with a start. They looked right at the Obliviator, then at Hermione and Ron on one side, then Harry and Ginny on the other.

"Hermione!" her mother almost shouted in surprise. "But, but, but... does this mean..."

"You did it, didn't you? That Voldemort fellow, he's gone?" her father asked.

Hermione nodded, and her mother practically jumped from the couch and hugged her. Mr. Granger turned to Harry, and gave him an apprising look.

"You're the Harry Potter Hermione's told us about, I gather?"

Harry nodded.

"You don't look like a hero, but then again most heroes don't. At least, that's what I learned back in the Navy." He gave Harry a nod of satisfaction, and turned his attention back to his wife and daughter.

* * *

Hermione and her parents spent most of the next few days going over the events of the past year - almost always with Ron at her side, and frequently joined by Harry and Ginny. While Mr. and Mrs. Granger did not get the full version of events that the Weasleys had, they got enough to understand the dangers their daughter had faced had been even worse than they could have imagined. They had also been told of Ron and Hermione's relationship, and Mrs. Granger had positively glowed when she found out. 

The most important topic now, however, was the future. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were torn between returning home to Britain or staying in Australia. Eventually, they decided to return to Britain. This meant that they had to settle all their affairs in Australia on short notice, much like when they had to leave England. Fortunately, the Australian Ministry of Magic was able to help and smooth over things with the Muggle government, which had greatly simplified things.

When they weren't helping the Grangers prepare to return home, the quartet spent their time enjoying one of Sydney's natural attractions: the beaches. Ron and Ginny both had to be a little careful around the sun, but fortunately their Auror escorts taught them a charm that served as a replacement for sunblock.

Of course, Harry could not help but admire Ginny, especially since both she and Hermione had bought rather flattering swimsuits to fit in with everyone on the beach. This did, however, cause both to get a fair share of attention from the other people enjoying the sun and surf. For Hermione, this was something of an oddity as, except for the Yule Ball she had never gotten second glances for her looks. This was also something that annoyed both Harry and Ron who were feeling even more territorial about their girlfriends than usual.

A few days later, everyone was ready to head back home. The hotel limousine took them all back to an airport hangar, where the same jet that had taken them to Australia was waiting for them. Not only the plane that was the same; so was the aircrew

"Thought we'd see you lot again," Bob Clarkson said. "And these would be..."

"Wendell and Monica Granger," Hermione said. "My parents."

"Ah. Well then, let me show you around."

Bob led the Grangers up to the airplane, while Ron and Ginny followed with the luggage. Harry turned to the two Aurors who had been with them all week.

"Thanks. For everything."

"Anytime, mate," James said, "so long as Arnie and I can have some Firewhiskey with you anytime we're in London. Take care, Harry."

Harry nodded and waved back as he entered the plane. Inside, he found the Grangers admiring the inside of the plane. They apparently found it just as remarkable as the four of them had back in London.

"Hermione, how did you arrange all this? This can't be - oh," Mrs. Granger said. "It's yours, then, Harry?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking, I guess," Harry said, in the same uncomfortable tone he used whenever money was discussed.

Fortunately for Harry, the pilots chose that moment to call for everyone to take their seats and prepare for takeoff. Hermione's distaste of brooms had apparently been inherited from her mother, who was uncomfortable with any sort of flight. She soon went to catch some sleep. Meanwhile, her husband showed the same kind of curiosity towards the Wizarding World that Mr. Weasley showed towards the Muggle world. As a dentist, he found it particularly interesting that wizarding sweets did not cause tooth decay.

Harry also learned that Mr. Granger had been the unofficial chess champion of the ships he had served on in his days with the Royal Navy. This inevitably led to another spirited series of chess games over the Arctic with Ron. The two were evenly matched, and the score was tied when the plane began its descent towards London. The two called the match a draw, and they both settled into their seats to prepare for landing.

On the ground they found Mr. Weasley waiting for them, along with two Ministry cars and some Hit Wizards who would escort the Grangers back home.

"Why don't you come visit me instead, Ron," Hermione said. "It's always me heading off to the Burrow. How about... a change of scenery?"

"Alright, 'Mione. I'll send Pig when I'm going to come over, alright? And I'll take Crookshanks with me - once he stops chasing all the gnomes," Ron said with a grin.

Hermione left with her parents, and Harry joined the rest of the Weasleys in the other Ministry car. "You chose a busy time to leave," he said, handing everyone a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry read quickly. Kingsley had been confirmed as Minister of Magic by the Wizengamot, and they had also voted to-

"They didn't!" Ron said.

"Oh yes, yes they did," Mr. Weasley said. "You, Harry, and Hermione will all receive Orders of Merlin. First Class, too. What's left of the Order, the Hogwarts faculty, and Dumbledore's Army will get one, too. Second Class. Everyone else who was at Hogwarts for the battle will get a third class award."

Harry was speechless. His jaw dropped of its own accord, and he was just about to snap it shut when Mr. Weasley spoke again.

"Oh, one more thing. Apparently, the joke shop was far more successful and profitable than any of us realized," he said. "We also didn't know that Fred and George set it up so we all owned part of it. They were planning to let us know after Bill's wedding - it would have been their wedding present, I think - but, well..." he paused. He didn't have to remind anyone of what had happened next.

"He's mental," Ron said. "What did Mum say?"

"Well," Mr. Weasley replied, "your mother and George had... a rather frank discussion."

While all this was going on, Harry was doing his best to hide the feeling of satisfaction in him right now. Only he, George, and Hestia knew the whole truth: that the part that now belonged to the Weasleys was once Harry's, plus a small part of Fred's share.

_The gold that came with it should fill up the family vault at Gringotts quite nicely. Considering all the Weasleys have done for me the past seven years, it was the least I could do, _Harry thought.

* * *

Sunday lunch at the Burrow was as pleasant as ever. Mrs. Weasley was slightly disappointed that Hermione had not come back with Harry and Ron, but she understood perfectly. "Family's family," she had said.

After lunch, Ron rushed off to his bedroom to send an owl to Hermione. Harry and Ginny were watching over Teddy Lupin, who had decided to wear his hair black with plenty of red streaks today.

"Where's Ron?" George asked.

Harry pointed towards the stairs.

"Oh, good," George replied. "Listen, if I ask him to join me in the joke shop, would he say yes?"

"Of course he would," Harry said. "Are you mental? Did all of your brains leak out of that hole in your head, too?"

George grinned. "Never hurts to get a second opinion, does it? Although if Ron turns it down he won't just be mental, he'll be a poorer sort of mental."

"What were you going to offer him?" asked Ginny.

"Well, I need someone to actually figure out how to make all our crazy ideas work," George replied. "Fred was always good at that. Ron, well, he's no prankster, much to our eternal regret, but he should be smart enough for the job. I mean, how many O.W.Ls did he get-"

"Seven," Harry said.

"Exactly. I figure he can head up the back room," George said. "Developing new products, keeping inventory, that sort of thing. He'll have a healthy bit of the shop," he added, "so he'll be rolling in Galleons if he doesn't screw it up."

"Go and ask Ron," Harry said, "before he finishes his letter to Hermione. If you ask after Pig leaves, Ron will send Hermes out to Hermione with the news."

"Good point," George replied. With that, he ran up the staircase towards the attic.

"So," Ginny asked, "what do you have planned for the next few weeks, Harry?"

Harry wasn't quite sure how to answer. The idea of a summer where he could enjoy himself was a novel one. Voldemort and the Dursleys had always managed to make his summers rather miserable. The weeks at the Burrow right after the battle had been nothing short of fantastic, and Harry realized he had a few more weeks of the same to enjoy.

"I don't know, Ginny," he replied. "Why don't you show me how to have a really good summer?"

She could not suppress the grin that crept up on her face. She leaned in close to Harry and whispered in his ear. Harry instantly turned red at Ginny's suggestion. He was thankful that no one was looking in his direction at that exact moment.

* * *

The next few weeks were some of the best Harry had ever had. He spent as much time as he could with Ginny, and Harry didn't care what it was they were doing. Sometimes it was just lying around in some bushes, sometimes it was flying in the airspace over the Burrow, sometimes it was helping Ron and George out with the joke shop. 

Ron had, of course, accepted George's offer right away. As a result, he was now spending a fair amount of time at the joke shop, learning what he needed to learn to take Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to the next level. He was also using his bedroom as an experimental lab, much like the twins had before him. More than a few times, Harry and Ginny had been surprised by loud bangs coming out of the attic bedroom which were inevitably followed by yells from Mrs. Weasley telling her youngest son off.

Sunday lunch was now almost always held in the garden because there were now four regular guests: Andromeda brought Teddy Lupin over every weekend, and now Hermione's parents had joined in as well. Everyone soon learned that Mr. Weasley and Mr. Granger should never be left alone in a room, as with each one's interest in the others world they were quite capable of talking for hours on end, to the mutual exasperation of their wives.

In mid-June, Harry decided that the time was right for him to visit the house his parents had left him. Hestia sent an owl and a Portkey to the Burrow, and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all went with him. The letter that the owl brought also answered one question Harry had asked: how had the house survived for almost two decades without once being attacked?

The answer had been a surprise to everyone - except Hermione (as always) and Mrs. Weasley.

"Many old Wizarding families," Mrs. Weasley had explained, "placed strong protective wards on their family homes. I'm sure you all remember all the spells we had at Grimmauld Place, and, because it was in London, there were some things that couldn't be done there. Also, many of the houses were built on sites that are magically powerful, like Hogwarts. I'm not surprised at all, to be honest."

Eventually, they all took the Portkey and landed ungracefully onto a sleepy country lane. Ron was particularly unhappy. The fact that both Hermione and Ginny landed on him probably had something to do with it.

The four of them walked along the road towards an ornate iron gate that Harry thought looked a little rusty. As they got closer, however, Harry felt a warmth come over him, and everyone gasped as the gates took on a brand-new appearance and opened of their own accord. Harry turned to the others, who were all speechless.

"I think the house recognizes you, Harry," Ginny said after a while.

They walked through the gate and found what looked like a golf cart, except this one didn't have a steering wheel or any other means of telling it where to go. Harry turned to everyone else, asking with his eyes _now what_? They all shrugged, and with no other alternatives they got on the cart.

At first, nothing happened, but after a moment, the cart began to move up the road about as fast as the thestral-pulled carriages at Hogwarts did. Harry looked around at the grounds. It wasn't too different from the land around the Burrow, and from what Harry could tell, they could all have flown here - if they had known where it was.

The cart crested a hill and eventually the house came into view. It was a rather sprawling mansion, a little larger than both Grimmauld Place and the Burrow put together. Unlike either, however, Potter House was not a particularly tall structure, rising only three floors above the ground.

The cart stopped right in front of the modest entrance, which was not as grand as one would expect from the family home of one of Wizarding Britain's richest families. As Harry led the group up the steps, the entrance to the house opened of its own accord like the gate had before.

Stepping inside his house, Harry was amazed by what he found. From his limited experience with upper-class magical residences, he half expected a house that flaunted the wealth of its residents. Malfoy Manor had been like that and, even in its dilapidated state, anyone could see that at its height the same had been true of Grimmauld Place. Harry earnestly hoped that his new house was not built along the same lines.

Fortunately, his wishes had been granted. They entered a large room that served as both entrance hall and sitting room. There were plenty of comfortable chairs and tables for people to sit and talk. Harry was reminded of the Gryffindor common room. There was an air of understated elegance throughout - one that clearly said that yes, the owners of this house were rich, but no, they felt no need to flaunt it.

Off to one side of the sitting room, there was a painting that depicted the Tale of the Three Brothers. Harry looked at it curiously. Did his father know that his Invisibility Cloak was a Deathly Hallow? The painting made Harry think that the answer was yes. If so, he hadn't told either Sirius or Lupin, but then again Dumbledore had not waved around the Elder Wand either. _Maybe it's a family secret, _Harry thought.

Below the painting was a worn, dusty book bound in leather. Harry didn't know why, but he knew exactly what he had to do. He tapped the cover of the book with his wand.

The book instantly glowed and flew into the air. It spun in the air for a minute before falling back onto the table, looking as if it had just been sold by Flourish and Blotts. Harry looked at the cover a little more closely. Embossed onto either side of a shield that bore what Harry supposed was the Potter family crest was...a stag and a horse.

"Ginny," he said quietly, "isn't your Patronus a horse?" Ginny nodded.

Harry tried to process this latest bit of information. Apparently, the house not only recognized him, the only living Potter, but his girlfriend, Ginny, as well. He opened the book and saw what was inside: it was a list of all the wards that protected Potter House, along with the incantations needed to modify them. It was almost like a manual for the house, Harry thought. He soon had modified the wards to allow not only himself, but the Weasleys as well, to Apparate and fly in and out of the grounds.

The quartet spent what seemed like hours exploring the interior of the house. In the sitting room, opposite the entrance, was a floor-to-ceiling glass wall and a door that led out to an outdoor deck. The deck, in turn, had a glorious view of the sea and a swimming pool right beside it.

The five bedrooms all had large four-posters that were even more luxurious than their beds in Gryffindor Tower. Hermione gasped at the size of the library, which was even larger than it had seemed from the outside. The kitchen was large enough that Mrs. Weasley could probably feed the entire Weasley clan from the kitchen. There was even a room specifically for a house elf located beside the kitchen. Harry couldn't help but notice that it was still larger than his old bedroom at Privet Drive.

They spent what seemed like hours exploring the inside of the house. It was scrupulously clean, as if a particularly industrious house-elf had been keeping it clean for the past eighteen years. If Harry wanted to move in, he could do so right away.

Eventually, Harry found something he was looking for in the master bedroom suite. There was a small bookshelf that was full of photo albums. He opened one, and the first photograph was of an eleven-year-old Lily Evans, absolutely beaming in her Hogwarts robes. There was another photo of Lily, standing in the Gryffindor common room. There were others, and Harry decided that either her mother or one of her friends had, like Colin Creevy, loved photography.

There was one for every year Lily had been at Hogwarts, and Harry and Ginny looked through each and every one. Finally, there was only one left - the one from her seventh year. For the first time, the four Marauders were in many of the photos, and Lily did not seem want to throttle James whenever she laid eyes on him. The last photograph in the album was Lily and James, hand in hand, as they left the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

Harry closed the book with a feeling of satisfaction. Ever since Voldemort had killed his parents, he had been looking for a home of his own where he could love and be loved. He had felt love and loved both at Hogwarts and at the Burrow, but neither had really been his. Potter House, however, was different. If someone asked him why it was different, he would not have been able to answer. He felt, no, he _knew_, this was where he was supposed to be. And he knew who else was supposed to be here with him too.

He pulled Ginny into his arms and placed his lips on hers. She was surprised for only the briefest of moments, but soon her hands found his disorderly black hair while his found her long locks of red hair. When he had to let go to take in a breath of air, he looked right into her vibrant brown eyes.

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"I love you too, Harry James Potter."

* * *

_Outside Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay  
Kings Bay, Georgia, United States of America_

The man in the shadows threw the Wizarding newspaper at his feet. It contained nothing that he already new. Tom Riddle, the arrogant fool who had decided to rechristen himself Lord Voldemort, was dead and his followers were in disarray. This was no surprise, he thought. For all his brilliance and power, Riddle had been arrogant. He had ignored what he thought was unimportant, and tended to think that he knew all that was worth knowing. There was no more fatal mistake. You never knew everything, the man thought, and when you start thinking that, well... he was alive, where Riddle was most clearly not.

The man sighed, _Why is it that so many of our kind are so foolish?__Riddle was merely the most recent example. Powerful as he was, he was really nothing more than a glorified thug. Grindelwald had at least the sense to use the Muggle leader of Germany for his own purposes, but he unfortunately chose someone who was completely unhinged. _

He was determined to succeed where Riddle had failed. Where Grindelwald had failed. Where a long line of powerful witches and wizards had all tried, but ultimately failed. They had all been blinded by their hatred of Muggles to realize one thing: Muggles did come up with good ideas, and with surprising frequency as well. If overthrowing the blasted Statute of Secrecy meant using Muggle weapons, well, it was nothing less than irony, wasn't it?

But first, he had to learn. He knew little of the Muggle world and realized that before acting he needed information. A year ago, he had been utterly ignorant of what was in this small town, but today he knew.

Stationed out of this town were nine submarines - half of America's ballistic missile submarine fleet. Each carried enough firepower to annihilate any country in the world several times over. There was nothing like it in the Wizarding world. Simply put, wizards had never wanted to kill each other in the numbers Muggles had over the centuries. There simply weren't enough wizards to go around.

Walking quickly through the town, he found his destination. It was a bar known to be popular with the sailors from the nearby submarine base. He had been here before, of course, looking for a good target. He had found one, and tonight he would carry out his plan.

Later that night, a Navy lieutenant found the need to urinate overwhelming, and decided that after relieving his need he would head home. No need to start a hundred days at sea hung over, after all. He had barely started to position himself in front of the urinal when he heard something from the other side of the room.

"_Imperio."_


	9. Chapter 9: Plans and Projects

Hope you all had a nice Christmas. Here's my slightly belated gift. May you all have a Happy New Year.

Thanks again to my hard-working beta Dragyn. And sadly, Santa didn't give me ownership of HP for Christmas, so no, I don't own it.

* * *

_July 1, 1998  
The Burrow  
_  
Even though Harry had now taken over Potter House, he had decided to finish out the summer at the Burrow. He had two reasons for this: first, he had promised Mrs. Weasley that he'd stay, and, second, he felt that as big as Potter House was it was a bit too much for him to live in with only Kreacher for company. Kreacher had been absolutely pleased that he could now serve Harry properly, and the ancient elf almost fainted when he saw that he had been granted his own private quarters.

There was, of course, a third reason that only Harry and Ginny knew about; she had told him in no uncertain terms that as much as he meant to her, if he dared move out of the Burrow, she would hex him so strongly that bogies would be fluttering around his head for weeks. Harry didn't doubt that Ginny could do it if she put her wand to it.

Things returned to the way they were until the first of July. On that day, four Hogwarts letters arrived at breakfast - one each for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Ginny's was just the standard booklist for seventh years, although this time, instead of Professor McGonagall, it was Professor Flitwick signing as Deputy Headmaster.

The three other letters were a little different. Harry, Ron and Hermione knew that it would be the letters offering them the chance to retake their seventh year. The same offer had been made to everyone else in the seventh year. Thanks to the reign of the Carrows, there had been precious little real education done the previous year.

The letters, however, did have a nasty surprise.

"We're coming back on August first?" Ron asked. "Are they mental? The castle can't have been fixed that quickly."

"It'll take a while for full repairs to be made," Mr. Weasley answered. "There just aren't enough good construction wizards to go around. They've done enough to get all the classes running, but full repairs might take an entire year."

"So why are we coming back so soon, then?" Ginny asked.

"They'll essentially have enough of the repairs done so you can all resume classes." Mr. Weasley replied. "Not all the corridors will be open, and you may not have all your classes in their regular classrooms however, Professor McGonagall is confident that Hogwarts can resume classes by the first of August. According to her, they need the extra time to ensure that everyone can catch up with where they ought to be academically."

The letters also contained another surprise. While Ron and Hermione kept their prefect badges, both Harry and Ginny had each received badges that made them both the Gryffindor Quidditch team captains. Ginny had been captain of the team during the past year, but before she could actually lead the team in any matches Snape had canceled the season.

"It was Hannah Abbott's idea," Ginny said. "First match of the season was Hufflepuff versus Slytherin. Slytherin won, of course - Hufflepuff got flattened, to be honest. Anyway, as the match ended, someone lit off some fireworks that spelled out 'Dumbledore's Army: dealing with Death Eaters since 1995'. The Carrows weren't exactly too happy, and they had the season canceled after that."

According to Hermione, the situation was both unprecedented, but perfectly explainable. "According to _Hogwarts, A History_, prefects and team captains retain their privileges so long as they're at Hogwarts," she said. "So, Harry's the captain because he had the title in our sixth year, but Ginny has as much right to it because she was captain last year. So McGonagall made you co-captains, something that has never happened before." She shrugged as she ate some more toast. "Then again, there hasn't been a case of anyone dropping out then coming back to Hogwarts, either."

There was no doubt that Harry, Ron and Hermione would all go back to take their seventh year. Harry didn't want to receive any special treatment to join the Auror program, Ron thought some N.E.W.Ts would be useful for coming up with new products for the joke shop, and Hermione was, well, Hermione. One could no more keep her from books than one could stop a herd of rampaging hippogriffs.

It didn't hurt that most of the students in their year were coming back, too. Even those who had been there for the whole school year hadn't learned much that was actually part of the curriculum. The Heads of Houses had all strongly advised their students to return and finish the year properly, though Harry suspected this was a message that most of the Slytherins would ignore.

They all went to Diagon Alley a few days later to pick up their new school things. For Harry, this meant that he had to re-buy everything he had acquired since his first year - right down to his trunk - something that made the shopping trip take far longer than it otherwise would have. The hordes of reporters that followed Harry didn't help either. More than a few times he had to use his Invisibility Cloak to escape all the photographers who wanted a shot of him.

Meanwhile, for the Weasleys, the trip was something of a new experience as it was their first chance to fully utilize their new-found financial clout. Both Ron and Ginny received sets of new books and robes. They also considered getting Ginny a premium racing broom of her own, but Harry gave strong hints that he would take care of that particular need when Ginny became of age. Ginny was curious as to what Harry had in mind, but kept her peace.

Ron and Harry also took the opportunity to finally acquire their Apparition licenses. It was little more than a formality - both Harry and Ron had been Apparating all over the country for the better part of a year, and they had managed reasonably well, after all. They soon had their Apparition licenses, which they promptly used to travel back to the Burrow.

While Ron and Harry were proving their Apparition skills at the Ministry, Hermione and Ginny were getting a new owl. Ginny knew that Harry needed an owl because Hestia sent over papers for him to sign almost every day. However, she also knew that Harry was not quite up buying an owl yet. Instead, she would be buying one supposedly for herself, but in reality would be theirs.

_Theirs_. The thought made Ginny feel warm inside. She was brought back to reality by Hermione's voice, who was talking to someone behind the counter.

"Ah, yes, I remember that snowy owl very well. Even for a post owl, very intelligent. Now, let me see... I think a have a good candidate here."

The shopkeeper made his way through the maze of cages and came back with a large barn owl. "This one's a pretty smart and fast owl. He's a little... picky about his food, though. Likes all his food fresh - not necessarily raw, mind, but he doesn't like stuff that's been kept cool and just reheated. Other than that, he's as fine a owl as I've ever seen."

The owl hooted affectionately at Ginny, and for a moment there was a hint of naughtiness in his eyes that reminded Ginny of Fred and George. She nodded, and she and Hermione were soon back at the Burrow laden with all their purchases.

Harry was at first surprised to see that Hermione and Ginny had brought an owl with them, but after some thinking he realized their intentions. He could not help but smile - Ginny knew him even better than he knew himself.

"So... what should we call him?" Harry asked.

"I don't know... what about 'Gordon'?" Ginny said.

"'Gordon'? Where did that come from?" Ron chuckled.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. He just seems like a Gordon to me."

"Let's ask him, shall we?" Harry said, turning to the owl. "What do you think? Gordon work for you?"

The owl hooted approvingly and extended his wings. "Yeah, I think he likes it," Harry said.

* * *

The days passed and it was soon the last day of July. It was Harry's birthday, and Ginny was the first to greet him a happy birthday by kissing him while he was sleeping. This, of course, led to what would have been a good, prolonged snogging session if Ron had not yelled loudly from the other side of the door for the couple to stop right away and come down to breakfast.

Harry's birthday party was a little smaller than the year before, but there was no doubt that this was a happier one. Only the Weasleys, Hermione, and Luna were able to make it. Harry was glad to know that the Lovegood house had already been repaired, and that Xenophilius Lovegood had managed to come out of his trip to Azkaban in good condition and was back working on recreating Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.

"Now that the original's gone, Daddy thinks it's even more important to recreate the diadem," Luna said in her dreamy voice. Ron barely restrained himself from laughing out loud at the memory of the ludicrous headpiece they had found during their previous visit.

The birthday gifts were as varied as they always were, although they all seemed to be aimed for a new homeowner, as Harry was. The best gift, however, came from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Harry opened the small package to find a small box made of polished wood. Harry opened it carefully, and gasped loudly at what was inside.

"We wanted to do it last year, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "but Arthur thought it was too dangerous. I have to admit, he was right."

Inside the box was a small clock hand with Harry's name engraved on it. It matched the others that were on the Weasley family clock. Harry could only stare at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in shock.

"You're as good as one of ours dear. And that goes for both of you," Mrs. Weasley said, talking to Hermione. She, too, had received the same gift Harry had as an advance birthday present. Harry wrapped his arms around Mrs. Weasley and hugged her as tightly as he could.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Ginny spent the rest of the night packing their trunks for their departure the next day. Hermione was already packed and had headed back to her parents after Harry's birthday party. She had, however, passed on some of her organization skills to Ginny who decided to check on the progress of the others.

When she dropped in on Ron, she found her brother messily flinging robes, clothes, and other items into his own trunk. She wasn't surprised by this. When she dropped in on Harry (who had been occupying Percy's old room), however, she found that he was having a tougher time of it. It wasn't because he was any messier than Ron (something Ginny thought was impossible), but because he had a lot more to pack. There was so much, in fact, that Harry had resorted to placing an Extension Charm on his trunk.

"Harry, what's giving you so much trouble - oh," she said, peering into the bottom of the trunk.

Ginny had seen what was giving Harry so much trouble. There was a jumble of heavy wires, boxes, and other items that she recognized as the primitive wireless transmitter that Potterwatch had used.

"Oh, that. It's for my little project," Harry said.

Harry's "little project" was trying to recreate television using magic. Back in Sydney, both Ron and Ginny had been utterly fascinated by the large set in their hotel suite. On the plane ride home, Mr. Granger had noted that wizards didn't have television and wondered why this was so.

"I mean, you've got this sport, Quidditch, is it called? Now, from all that I've been told, it's a fascinating sport," Mr. Granger said, although Mrs. Granger shuddered a little at the last point. "But wouldn't it be so much better if you could actually see things?"

No one had been able to come up with a good answer to that question. Since then, Harry had been trying to invent a Wizarding version of television. Harry knew there were ways to send images from one mirror to another - his father and Sirius's pair of mirrors had been proof of that. However, that was a long way from a full-fledged Wizarding television system.

Harry had been able to make a camera that sent out live and recorded images to a mirror that served as the television screen, thus recreating what Hermione called "home video." However, she had told Harry that it was a long way from commercial television. She, too, had been helping out Harry when she was at the Burrow and not with Ron.

The most important bit that had to be done was figuring out how to send the images to many screens, not just one. They knew it was possible to do it - both the Wizarding Wireless and Potterwatch were proof of that. In an attempt to figure out how it was done, Harry had borrowed the equipment used to broadcast Potterwatch from Lee Jordan and dug out some books from the Potter House library. Everyone else at the Burrow had at least taken a peek at what Harry was doing, although only Hermione, Ginny and Ron had been of any real help.

"Gee, Harry, isn't being the world's richest bachelor enough for you already?" Ginny teased.

Harry laughed. "Well, I wouldn't turn it down, but you know this isn't about the money, Gin. I just want to do something that doesn't have anything with Death Eaters."

"Harry, you do know that's impossible, right? You'll always be the Saviour of the Wizarding World or whatever the _Prophet_ decides to call you."

Harry could only shrug his shoulders in resignation. "I know, but..." Harry stared out of the window, "it's the sort of fame I never wanted."

Ginny went over to Harry's side and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "I know, Harry. I know."

The pair were content to just stay there, but they were interrupted by loud noises, a hooting owl, and a hail of curse words that could only have come from Ron.

"Let's go help my brother pack," Ginny said, "before Mum tells him off for-"

"RONALD WEASLEY!" the loud voice of Molly Weasley bellowed from the kitchen, without any magical amplification.

"Too late for that," Harry replied.

* * *

All things considered, the departure for King's Cross went as smoothly as could be expected - which wasn't saying much, because leaving for Hogwarts from the Burrow was always an exercise in disorder. Miraculously, however, by ten in the morning, everyone was fed, packed, and clothed.

"Hurry now, dears, Arthur will be waiting at the Leaky Cauldron," Mrs. Weasley said as she got Harry, Ron and Ginny lined up in front of the fireplace. "Do be careful."

One by one, they all traveled via Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the barkeep and Mr. Weasley helped each of them to their feet, and two Ministry guards took care of their trunks.

Harry looked around and saw that the pub was as crowded as he could remember it. Some were obviously the families of Hogwarts students who were heading exactly the same way as Harry, Ron and Ginny. They found Hermione waiting at the bar, along with Neville and Luna. They had spent the past hour talking over mugs of butterbeer. Mr. Weasley agreed to give the two a lift as well, and soon all eight of them - Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna - were all in Ministry cars heading for King's Cross.

It wasn't long before they were making the trip they had all made six times before. Harry took a moment to take in the sights and sounds of Platform Nine and Three Quarters. This might well be the last chance he got to properly enjoy it, he thought. The scarlet train, the disorder of the platform, the animal sounds the pets made, the steam from the train - Harry took it all in as they climbed onto the train in search of a large compartment that would fit all six of them, plus two owls, one cat, one toad and one Pygmy Puff.

Harry could feel the eyes staring at him and the rest from the other compartments. He understood why. None of them had been at the battle, and all they knew since then had been from either the _Daily Prophet_ or the Wizarding Wireless - institutions that Harry didn't exactly hold in the highest esteem. Even when they weren't under the thumb of the Ministry, they were prone to either sensationalism or outright rumor-mongering. Sometimes, Harry had difficulty telling whether a story had been printed by the _Daily Prophet_ or _Witch Weekly_.

"Is it just me, or is the train not as crowded as usual?" Neville asked.

"No first years. They're not coming until September," Ron explained. "And everyone seems to be running late, too."

Unusually, they were able to find a compartment that was close to the front of the train. The compartments here were just a bit larger than they were used to, and so, everyone was able to pack their trunks and pets relatively quickly. Crookshanks curled into a sleeping position, looking for all the world like a giant ginger seat cushion.

Soon, the clock struck eleven in the morning, and the train slowly started gaining speed with waving students crowding the windows and proud parents waving back as the train started the long journey from London to Hogsmeade.


End file.
